The Others
by RedQ
Summary: Something follows Barry out of the speed force, and whatever it is, it seems to want something from him. He ignores the strange occurrences at first. He ignores the mysterious bruises appearing on his body. He ignores the others. Because the more you notice them, the more they will start to notice you.
1. Earth 12

**Not just a cheesy Halloween oneshot. This is a full-length story with a plot**

 **Important: This is taking place between season 2 and season 3. It is AU in which Barry never ran back in time to save his mom, and Flashpoint never happened. It's been two months since his dad died and Zoom was defeated. Barry is still grieving, but he's slowly starting to move on and be himself again. Jesse and Wells are back on their own earth, Wally and Caitlin don't have powers, and Cisco isn't grieving his brother, who is still very much alive in this timeline. Also, Barry and Iris are not together. She's giving him space while he figures things out and grieves his dad.**

* * *

 **Earth 12**

* * *

He really wasn't up for this today. Really, he was kind of getting sick of it already this week, but today, especially, Barry really didn't want to do this. He didn't even want to be at STAR Labs right now.

As he was in the elevator on his way up to the cortex, Barry's phone started vibrating in his pocket. He pulled it out and checked the caller ID, groaning quietly as he looked at the screen. It was Iris— _again._ She and Joe had been trying to call him all day, and Barry had been intentionally not answering.

Barry hit ignore on the call and put his phone back in his pocket. He knew why they were calling.

It was March 18th, the anniversary of his mother's death. Barry had been trying hard not to think about it all day. This day was hard for him every year, and he usually did his best to ignore it, but it was hard to ignore, especially this year now that his dad was gone, too. He had tried to go to work this morning so he could keep his mind occupied, but he found that he was too distracted to focus on anything that he was working on, so he left around noon, taking a half-day.

Cisco and Caitlin had clearly forgotten. Or maybe they just didn't know. Previous years, Barry had just avoided them, telling them he was busy, and they hadn't questioned it. They probably didn't even know what day today was. He had tried telling them he was busy again, but Cisco insisted he come in so they could work on their latest project.

They were currently trying to map out the multiverse. They wanted to know what each earth held, and they especially wanted to know if there were more enemies like Zoom lurking on other earths, ones that could eventually become a threat to them in the future. Barry wasn't entirely enthusiastic about the project. Traveling to different earths was exhausting, and he was worried that doing it was going to cause more harm than good. People just weren't meant to simply jump back and forth between universes at will. They were separated for a reason, and Barry had a bad feeling about what they were doing.

He had already been to five different earths. Earth 2, they already knew about. Earth 38, Barry had been to a few months ago when he had met Kara. But he had also been to three others now.

"You ready to explore a whole new world today?" Cisco said excitedly when Barry walked into the cortex.

Barry sighed and plopped down into a chair behind the cortex desk.

"Do we have to do this today?" he asked wearily, "I don't think I really want to see the other earths anymore."

"Why not?" Cisco asked incredulously, "You have the opportunity to see entire other worlds! Why wouldn't you want to see them?!"

"Because they're awful, Cisco," Barry said seriously, "I don't want to see any more. That last one…"

"Okay," Cisco said understandingly, "So Earth 3 wasn't very friendly, but—"

"It was _evil,_ Cisco," Barry said, cutting him off, " _I_ was evil. Everybody was evil. It was awful."

"Yeah, but now we know to not ever go to Earth 3," Cisco reasoned, "This may not be fun for you, but it's good for us to know which earths are good and which ones…kinda suck. This is important."

"I know it's important," Barry said, rubbing his eyes tiredly, "I just—"

"And Earth 5 wasn't so bad," Cisco pointed out, "You said nobody had superpowers there. Everything was normal."

"Yeah, but Earth 5 Barry Allen was a drug dealer," Barry said flatly.

Cisco couldn't help but laugh.

"I'm sorry," he choked, "But I still find that kind of funny."

Barry didn't laugh. He just sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"And Earth 23 was just a wasteland," he sighed, "Everyone was dead."

"Yeah, that was a bummer," Cisco agreed, nodding seriously.

He pepped up quickly, though, and moved closer to Barry to sit on the desk next to him.

"But I've been doing some vibing," he said excitedly, "Earth 12 looks really nice, Barry. I don't think you'll have a bad time exploring that one. It looks kind of fun to me."

"What's so fun about it?" Barry asked skeptically.

Cisco chuckled.

"I didn't see much," he admitted, "But there are other superheroes there—that, I know—and they seem really friendly to me."

Barry sighed.

"Fine," he agreed, "I'll go to Earth 12 and scout it out, but that's it for this week. Then I'm taking a break from all of this."

Who knows? Maybe going to Earth 12 would help take his mind off things. At the very least, it would get him away from everything here. If he wanted to avoid Joe and Iris and their overbearing concern, what better way to do it than by going to a different universe?

"I'll get the treadmill ready," Cisco said excitedly.

They had figured everything out. Jumping to different universes was somewhat easy for Barry now. He could do it just as easily as he could run back in time. All he had to do was run on the treadmill using Wells' tachyon device while focusing on where he wanted to go. It was a lot like time travel really. He didn't even require Cisco's help with it anymore.

Cisco had even devised a way that they could stay in communication with Barry while he was in another dimension. He had applied special tech to Barry's coms and his suit so they could monitor his vitals and speak to him across different dimensions. The technology worked very similarly to how his vibing goggles worked.

Caitlin walked into the room as Barry got up on the treadmill.

"Now, Barry," she said sternly to him, "Make sure this time you take a breather once you've made it to Earth 12. Last time you didn't listen to me, and you nearly passed out. Jumping dimensions depletes all your blood sugar, so be sure to eat something this time once you get there."

Barry gave her a simple thumbs-up in response as he attached the tachyon device to his chest.

"Alright, ready, Barry?" Cisco asked excitedly.

"Ready," he said quietly and then started to run.

He picked up speed quickly—thanks to the tachyon device—and soon he was just a blur to Cisco and Caitlin. Barry soon found himself surrounded by light, by speed force energy. He tried not to look at the confusing images that flew past him as he ran, knowing it was better not to see them. He just thought of Earth 12 and focused on getting there.

Focusing hadn't exactly been his forte today, though. His mind had been preoccupied with other things all day, and Barry couldn't help but think about how the first time he had run like this, he had been going back to save his mother, only to be stopped by his future self. He never wanted to go back to that night again. If he could, he would go back to a different time to see his mother, even if it just meant seeing her for only a moment.

But he couldn't go back in time. Barry knew that. He knew he could change things drastically if he did, and the results could be devastating. He just wished there was a way he could see his parents again without time traveling. He had gotten to speak with his mother when he was in the speed force, but Barry was still unsure if it had really been his mother he was talking to, or just the speed force, or maybe a little of both.

He couldn't ever talk to her or his father the way he wanted to. He couldn't talk to the dead, and Barry just had to accept that. He would never truly see them again, at least not in this life, and that solid fact left an empty void in his heart every time he thought about it.

Barry was suddenly engulfed in a flash of light as he reached his destination, passing through the wormhole he had created. That light quickly vanished as soon as he reached the other side, though, and Barry quickly found himself surrounded by darkness.

A thick heavy darkness seemed to press in on him from all sides, the chill in the air feeling harsh in his lungs, as if the air itself was leeching the life right out of him. He couldn't see anything. It was all just a dark void. But Barry could feel. He could feel a heavy sense of dread and despair in the air surrounding him, and somehow he just knew.

This was not a place where good things happened. This was not a place where he was supposed to be.

* * *

Barry woke up to a steady beeping sound. He didn't even remember passing out. Had he forgotten to eat or something and passed out while running? He could remember running on the treadmill just before passing out. That must have been it. He just didn't eat enough.

But then Barry remembered. He hadn't just been running. He had been trying to jump earths. He had been trying to go to Earth 12, and he was probably there now.

Barry's eyes snapped open instantly at the thought. He looked around him, expecting to find himself in a whole new world. Instead, he was surprised by how familiar everything looked. It looked like he was in the med bay in STAR Labs, laying down in one of the medical beds there, hooked up to a heart monitor which was beeping steadily. And then Barry heard a familiar voice.

"Oh, my God!" Iris cried, rushing over to the bed as soon as she saw that his eyes were open, "You're awake! Barry, you scared us half to death!"

"What happened?" Barry asked immediately as she hugged him.

"God, you're still cold as ice!" Iris said as they broke apart.

Barry _did_ feel cold. His entire body felt like it had been dipped in icy water, and he was shivering terribly despite all the blankets covering him.

"What happened?" he asked her again.

"We were hoping _you_ could tell _us_ that," Cisco said, entering the room with Caitlin and Joe, "We don't know what happened. You were gone for two days!"

Barry's eyes widened.

"T-two days?" he asked incredulously.

"Barry, where were you?" Caitlin asked seriously, "Cisco tried vibing you, but all he saw was…"

She looked over at Cisco, who spoke then.

"All I saw was endless, crushing darkness," he said quietly.

It started to come back to Barry then. The darkness. The despair and lingering sense of dread in the air. He didn't know why, but he was scared. Something there had really scared him. He just couldn't remember what that was.

"I don't remember much," Barry admitted, "But I know one thing: I'm never going to Earth 12 again."

The others all looked at each other and Cisco cleared his throat.

"Barry," he said, his voice hardly more than a whisper, "I don't know where you were…but it was definitely not Earth 12."


	2. The Pantry

**Disclaimer: Some parts of this story might feel familiar because they're inspired by the many scary movies I've seen. Most of it is original, but I will probably be taking some things from other sources, some of it knowingly and some unintentionally. Some scenes in scary movies have been used so many times, there's not a lot of original material to work with. I'll try to keep it as original as I can, though, and the storyline is definitely my own.**

* * *

 **The Pantry**

* * *

As hard as he tried, Barry couldn't remember anything of what had happened to him in the two days he was gone. He had this chill that kept running through him every time he thought about it, and it wasn't just from the fact he didn't remember anything. There was something about the whole thing that made him feel uneasy. He didn't know where he had been, but it wasn't anywhere good.

When he went home that night, Barry tried to shake it off. It didn't matter. He was home now, and he was safe. Whatever happened to him was over now, and he just had to move past it, whatever _it_ was.

He couldn't shake himself of this feeling, though. He had this awful feeling ever since waking up that he couldn't describe. It was a feeling of unease. For some reason, Barry felt unsafe. He was jumpy and on edge. Joe and Iris noticed it immediately. Iris almost didn't want to leave when it got to be late. She was tempted to stay the night to make sure Barry was okay, but Barry assured her he was fine—just a little shaken yet—so Iris eventually went back to her own apartment.

Joe went to bed a little after nine, and Barry, who wasn't quite ready to sleep just yet, decided to stay up in the living room, trying to catch up on work. He had planned to get a lot of work done over the course of the weekend, but he had spent his entire weekend in…wherever he had been. Now, he was scrambling to catch up before going to work tomorrow.

Barry had a hard time focusing on his work, though. He sat on the couch, feet up against the table with his papers in his lap and spread out on the couch around him. He kept reading the same lines of his report over and over again. He was too distracted to focus for some reason. He decided he was probably just tired. He still felt pretty worn out from the weekend's mysterious event.

The house was quiet around him, the kitchen and dining room dark. The only source of light was the lamp on the side table next to him where he sat in the living room. The only sounds were the sounds of him turning the occasional page every now and then and the occasional creak of the old house in the otherwise quiet night.

Barry was just scratching out a part of his report so that he could rewrite a segment when his pen suddenly froze on the page and Barry stopped what he was doing for a moment. A chill had suddenly gone through him, an unnatural chill that rose goosebumps on his arms and left the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. Somehow, Barry just knew. He wasn't alone.

Someone else was in the room.

He spun his head and looked around, thinking maybe Joe had come down the stairs to check on him or something, but Joe wasn't there. Nobody was. Yet, Barry still had the feeling that he wasn't alone, which was just stupid. He was being silly and paranoid. He was still just shaken from whatever had happened to him over the last couple of days.

He couldn't shake the feeling, though, and the goosebumps remained on his arms as he went back to his work. He quickly stopped reading and looked up again when he heard a small noise come from the kitchen. Barry looked over towards the dining room, but didn't see anything. He decided to ignore it at first but looked up again when he heard another noise: just a small bump, like the sound of someone moving things around.

Barry set his papers neatly off to the side on the couch with the rest of his reports and slowly stood up, straining his ears, but all he heard was silence. He heard nothing, not even the wind blowing outside or the occasional creek of the house. It was like all the sound in the world had turned off.

He jumped violently then when he suddenly heard a loud bang break through the silence—much louder than the previous sounds.

Someone was in the house.

Barry quickly rushed into the dark dining room, looking around and squinting to look into the kitchen, but all he could see was darkness. As he slowly passed through the dining room towards the kitchen, a small movement in the corner of the room suddenly caught his eye, and Barry quickly rushed towards the light switch to flick the lights on.

The room was suddenly illuminated by the soft kitchen lights, and Barry urgently surveyed the entire space. There was no one there. The room was empty. He looked around, trying to find the source of the noise he had heard and spotted a small frying pan lying on the floor. Barry's eyebrows furrowed as he looked at it. It must have fallen somehow. Barry picked it up and returned it to its hook on the wall where it normally hung with the rest of their cooking pans.

He then turned and stared at the corner of the room where he had seen the movement. If there had been someone there, there was nowhere else they could have possibly gone without him seeing. The back door was on the other side of the room, and all there was in the corner where he had seen the movement was the small walk-in pantry. If there had really been someone in the room with him just now, that would have been the only place they could have gone.

Barry stared at the closed pantry door. This would be the point where most people would call the cops or simply run away, but Barry was the Flash. If there really _was_ someone in their pantry, he could handle it. Barry reached out and wrapped his hand around the knob to the door, slowly turning it and pulling on it until the door was all the way open.

He found himself faced with a pitch black doorway. He internally cursed himself for putting off changing the pantry lightbulb. Joe had been asking him to do it all week, and he hadn't gotten around to it yet. It seriously would have taken him two seconds! Why hadn't he just changed it right away?!

Barry strained his eyes, peering into the dark pantry. He took a step forward into the darkness, outstretching his hand, grasping at the empty air. A chill filled the air, and the iciness of it seemed to consume him entirely, penetrating deep into his pores, leaving him feeling as if he had been filled with icy water. His chest felt hollow, his lungs empty and unable to take in any air.

For the first time, Barry started to feel truly scared as he stepped into the pitch black pantry. There was something so sinister about the small, dark space. He could feel a presence there, as if there was someone standing in there with him, and it didn't feel like a friendly presence. He stepped forward more, though, further into the darkness, outstretching his shaky hand into the empty black space.

Barry suddenly heard an earsplitting crash from behind him.

He didn't ever remember jumping so hard in his life. He spun around and quickly stepped back out into the kitchen, which was still echoing with the clanging noise of the frying pan hitting the ground. The pan rattled on the floor for a second or two before coming to a halt in the middle of the kitchen.

Barry stared at it. It was the same pan that had fallen before. For a moment, all Barry could do was stare at it, eyes wide as he tried to think of how it could have fallen again. He was almost certain he had secured it on its hook just fine. Barry stepped forward and slowly bent down to pick the pan up. He turned it over in his hands, frowning at it.

After a moment, Barry set the pan on the counter. He stared at it for a moment longer before walking away, passing back through the dining room, turning the light off behind him as he went. He must have just not hung it up right, or maybe the hook was broken or something. He'd have to check it in the morning—and change the light in the pantry while he was at it.

Barry sighed and collected all his papers, putting them in a neat stack on the coffee table. He was too tired to get any more work done tonight. He'd just have to work late tomorrow to get his reports done. He flicked off the lamp in the living room before climbing the stairs up to his room.

As he laid down in bed, Barry still couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't alone. He could still feel the same presence in the room that he had felt downstairs—that he had been feeling ever since he had woken up earlier. He was too tired to let it bother him, though. It was probably just in his head anyways. He'd feel better once he got some actual rest, and with that thought, Barry slowly drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

Joe was surprised to see Barry up so early on Monday morning. By the time Joe got downstairs to grab himself some breakfast before work, Barry was already down there, fully dressed and ready for the day. Joe found him in the pantry, balancing on a small step stool as he changed the lightbulb in the small room.

"About time," Joe laughed when he saw that Barry was finally doing what he had been asking him to do all week.

"Sorry, it took me so long," Barry said, stepping down off the stool when he was finished.

"It's okay, Bar," Joe said understandingly, "I know this has been a rough week for you."

He had never really had the chance to talk to Barry about his mother's death anniversary a few days ago, and he felt like he should say something now. Barry, however, didn't even seem to be paying attention. He was staring thoughtfully at the rack of pans in the corner of the room.

"Barry," Joe said to get his attention.

Barry turned his head and looked at him then, a strange expression on his face.

"What?"

Joe considered him for a moment. Something was really off about him today.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Barry nodded absently, his eyes flitting back to the pans again.

"Fine," he said quietly, "I just didn't sleep well last night. I ended up getting up really early. It's a good thing, too. My alarm clock stopped working last night, and I wouldn't have had an alarm to wake me up this morning."

Joe stared at him a moment longer before deciding to let it go. Barry was probably still just a little off from whatever had happened to him this weekend.

"Well, you should get going soon," Joe said, grabbing a slice of toast, "If you're late again, Singh will tear you a new one."

Barry laughed lightly.

"Got it," he said, "I'll be on time."

Joe nodded and then turned to leave but stopped on a sudden thought.

"Oh, and Bar," he said, turning back around to look at him, "I know you need to eat a lot, but if you're going to be cooking late at night, you've gotta learn how to be quieter about it. I heard you rummaging around down here all night."


	3. The Sound of Breathing

**The Sound of Breathing**

* * *

"Can't we just skip it this week?" Barry asked exhaustedly, "I really don't feel like doing this."

"Barry, you act as if I'm trying to shove bamboo splinters under your fingernails," Caitlin sighed, "It's just an EKG, and we're definitely not skipping it this week after what happened to you this weekend."

"We don't even _know_ what happened to me this weekend," Barry argued.

"Exactly," Caitlin said seriously, "You're proving my point for me, Barry. Now, take off your shirt and sit on the bed, please."

Barry sighed and pulled his shirt over his head, frowning as he went to sit on the edge of the medical bed. Caitlin shook her head at him.

"I still don't understand why you hate doing this every week," she said, "All you have to do is lay there."

"And stay perfectly still," Barry grumbled, "You know how hard that is for me? Sitting still for that long isn't easy for a speedster. It's torture."

"Don't be so dramatic," Caitlin laughed, "It's only ten minutes."

She pulled out the wires for the EKG machine and stepped closer to where he was sitting. She applied a small amount of gel to one of the electrodes and reached out to apply it to his chest. Her hand suddenly froze midair, her eyes widening.

"What's that?" she asked, gesturing towards his chest.

Barry looked down to see what she was talking about. A large bruise was covering a good portion of his left ribcage. Most of it was a bluish-purple color, but it was yellowing around the edges in some places. Barry stared at it in confusion, gently pressing on it. It was a little tender yet but not terribly so.

"When did you get that?" Caitlin asked him curiously.

"I…don't know," Barry said slowly, still staring at the large bruise.

"How can you not know?" Caitlin asked skeptically, "You must have just gotten it if it hasn't faded by now."

"Caitlin, I seriously have no idea," he said honestly, "I just came here straight from work."

Barry tried to remember if he had done anything that would have caused it, but he couldn't. He couldn't even remember bumping into anything or doing anything stupid like that. There was no way that he could think of for how he could have gotten it.

"Maybe it's from this weekend?" Barry suggested.

Caitlin shook her head.

"No," she said, "It should have healed by now if that were the case. Besides, when you came back, you didn't have a mark on you."

"How _did_ I come back?" Barry asked her seriously.

"You don't remember?" she asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

Barry shook his head.

"I just remember waking up and you guys telling me I was gone for two days," he said, "I don't remember coming back."

"You were awake when you came back," Caitlin told him, "You ran through a portal, really just like you always do when you visit another earth, but as soon as you got back, you passed out."

"That's it?" Barry asked, "I just came back and passed out?"

"Well," she said quietly, "You _did_ have this look on your face."

"What kind of look?"

She sighed heavily.

"Fear," she answered quietly, "It was a look of fear. You looked terrified, like you had seen something that really scared you, wherever you were. You were ice-cold, too. We had to heat you up using thermal blankets. You were nearly hypothermic."

Barry shuddered. He still felt the same chill now that he had had when he first woken up. He hadn't been able to get rid of it. He wasn't shivering or anything, but a deep chill seemed to be running through him at all times, deep in his bones and his core. Something about it really didn't feel right.

"Is there a way for us to find out where I was?" Barry asked.

Caitlin shook her head.

"Barry, we spent two days trying to figure out where you were," she said, "Cisco tried vibing you, and he…"

"He what?" Barry asked seriously.

Caitlin sighed.

"He didn't want me to tell you this because I think he's still a little embarrassed," she said, "But Cisco had a panic attack. When he tried to vibe you, he just…lost it. He broke down and started crying. It was kind of terrifying."

"Did he say why?" Barry asked quietly.

Caitlin shook her head.

"He told us all he saw was darkness," she answered, "I don't know what made him so upset. I assumed it was just because he couldn't tell us where you were, but…I don't know. Maybe there was something else."

Barry frowned at her.

"I'll have to talk to him about it," he said seriously.

"Later," she said in a stern voice, "Right now, we're making sure your heart is still in optimal health."

Barry sighed and rolled his eyes as she started finally applying the electrodes to his torso.

* * *

Barry was exhausted as he got ready for bed that night. He hadn't been lying when he told Joe he hadn't slept well the night before. He had had so many strange dreams that he now couldn't quite remember. It was all just a blur of images, of darkness and hands reaching out to touch him. There was something else, too, but he couldn't remember. He never remembered his dreams well.

Barry had just finished brushing his teeth and was putting his toothbrush away when he heard a small bump from behind him. He turned away from the mirror and looked around. It had been the smallest of sounds, and he wasn't even sure if he had heard it or imagined it, but when he turned around, he saw a slight ripple in the shower curtain, as if something had caused it to move. Barry stared at it for a moment.

Maybe his mind was just playing tricks on him again, or maybe he was just losing it entirely. Either way, he had to _check_ , so he stepped closer towards the shower, reaching out a hand to pull back the curtain. As his fingers closed around the cloth-like material, he could have sworn he could hear soft breathing coming from the other side of it. His heartrate picked up instantly.

"Barry."

Barry spun around to see Joe in the doorway. He had to try hard not to clutch his heart, not wanting to admit, even to himself, that Joe had startled him.

"Yeah?" Barry asked softly.

"Are you feeling okay?" Joe asked, "You seemed a bit off at work today."

Barry nodded.

"I'm good," he said, "I was just tired today. I'm going to try to get more sleep tonight."

Joe nodded slowly, giving him a thoughtful look.

"I've been meaning to ask you…" he said quietly, "Do you remember anything…about this weekend. Anything at all?"

Barry shook his head.

"It's all blank," he said seriously.

Joe nodded thoughtfully.

"Maybe that's for the best," he muttered.

Barry furrowed his eyebrows at him.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

Joe let out a small sigh.

"Caitlin has a theory," he said slowly, "And I kind of have to agree with her on it. She thinks that whatever happened to you this weekend wasn't pleasant and that you blocked out the memories as a coping mechanism, as a way of dealing with it."

Barry stared at him.

"So you guys think I'm _choosing_ not to remember?" he asked in confusion.

Joe nodded.

"We think your brain is choosing _for_ you," he said, giving Barry an uneasy look, "Now, Bar, _please_ don't get mad, but we think you have some kind of post-traumatic amnesia, and—"

"I'm _not_ post-traumatic, Joe," Barry said in a hard voice, his eyes narrowing.

Joe gave Barry a pleading look.

"Bar, you know I don't mean it like _that_ ," he said desperately.

Barry sighed.

"I'm going to bed now," he said tiredly, "I'll see you in the morning."

He brushed past Joe in the doorway then and disappeared into his bedroom.

He couldn't believe Joe would suggest he was post-traumatic, of all things. He knew how Barry felt about that label. It had always been a touchy subject for him, ever since he was a kid and had been professionally diagnosed with delusional post-traumatic stress disorder after his mother's death. He had been fighting the label for half his life, and it was a part of Barry's past he would give anything to forget.

So to have Joe bring it up so casually, to suggest so simply that he was going through some kind of post-traumatic episode, was extremely insulting and even _insensitive_ of him. Barry couldn't believe the nerve of Joe.

Maybe he was just feeling a little raw about it since his father had died. He was feeling extra defensive, especially since he had the feeling Joe and Iris and everyone were watching him closely, looking for signs of post-traumatic stress. He had watched his father die right in front of him, after all. It didn't surprise Barry that they'd be looking for signs of anxiety following the tragedy, but that didn't mean he had to tolerate it.

Maybe another reason Barry felt defensive about the label was because he _was_ feeling anxious. For reasons he couldn't quite explain, Barry had been feeling on edge ever since he had woken up. It was more than just anxiety, though. It was fear. Barry didn't know why, but he felt scared. Scared of what? He didn't know, but he couldn't ignore the fact that fear seemed to be thrumming though him, just below the surface, almost constantly now since he had gotten back. Maybe he _was_ post-traumatic. Maybe the fear was manifesting from whatever memories his brain was preventing him from accessing.

Barry tried not to think about it, though, as he tampered with his alarm clock, resetting it so that it would work in the morning and his alarm would go off. He still didn't know why it had stopped at 11:52 last night, but it reset pretty easily when he unplugged it and then plugged it back in.

Barry flicked off the light next to his bed then and sank back against his pillow. He really was exhausted, but now that the time came to sleep, Barry felt like he couldn't. Anxiety was still thrumming through him as he laid in bed, and he didn't know why. He had no reason to feel anxious. There was nothing to be anxious about—nothing to fear. Yet, he still felt afraid. He still felt like something was wrong, and more than that, he still had that feeling like he wasn't alone, like there was someone in the room with him, somewhere in the dark.

He ignored it, though, and did his best to close his eyes and clear his mind. It was only 10:30, but Barry felt exhausted, so he managed to put his anxiety aside and finally fall asleep after a good fifteen minutes or so, letting his worries leave him.

* * *

Barry jolted awake in an instant, his eyes snapping open. It didn't feel like he had naturally awoken, and he hadn't been dreaming about anything, so he didn't know what had woken him so suddenly. It had almost felt like the whole bed had moved, as if someone had nudged it violently. Barry glanced at his alarm clock.

11:52

He stared at it for a moment before sitting up slightly and looking around the room, his eyes blinking as he tried to peer through the darkness. Barry's breath caught in his throat, and ice seemed to flood his veins when he spotted a dark shadow in the corner of the room—a shadow in the shape of a tall silhouette. Someone was standing there. A _person_ was standing in the room, watching him sleep.

Barry felt paralyzed with fear as he stared at the dark figure in the corner. It wasn't moving. It was just standing there, watching. He tried to think if there was anything else that it could be, but there wasn't. There shouldn't be anything there. It should just be a blank expanse of wall. Well, there was definitely something there now. Some _one_.

Barry could hear them, too. They weren't moving, but he could definitely hear them breathing. It wasn't quiet either. It was loud and ragged, shallow breaths filling the otherwise silent room.

He had to be dreaming this. It had to just be happening in his head. It felt so real, though, and if it wasn't a dream, then that meant there was an intruder in their house. Someone was standing in his room watching him sleep, and even though he was a superhero, the thought of it scared him to his core.

Not taking his eyes off the dark figure, Barry slowly reached over to the lamp on his nightstand. He stared at the dark silhouette as he fumbled with the switch, watching it to see if it would move, to see if the person was going to suddenly lunge at him. Barry took his first breath of air once he finally managed to get the light on.

The figure was gone. As soon as the lights went on, it disappeared. Barry forced himself to take a deep breath as his eyes darted around the room. He was alone. There was no person. No one else was there. Barry slowly lowered his back down to the bed again, his head resting against the pillow as he let out a deep sigh.

He was losing his mind. Maybe he really did have some form of PTSD. Maybe whatever had happened to him this weekend had messed with him more than he thought. He glanced at his clock again. It still read 11:52. He grabbed his cellphone then and turned it on.

12:01

His alarm clock had _just_ stopped. In fact, he must have woken up right at the same time. That was a major coincidence if he ever heard of one.

Instead of trying to fix his alarm clock, Barry just set an alarm on his phone for in the morning. He plugged his phone back in and then reached for the light. He hesitated, though, once his hand was on the switch.

He looked around the room one last time. He had the irrational urge to keep the light on, but he knew he was just being silly. He wasn't an eleven-year-old boy who was afraid of the dark anymore. He was a full-grown man. He was the _Flash_. He wasn't afraid of the dark. That would be ridiculous.

Barry took a deep breath before finally turning the light off. As he laid back down again, he looked around the room. The shadow was still gone. There was nothing there. The corner that the figure had been standing in was now just a blank space of wall again. There wasn't anything there, nothing he could have mistaken for a person. Whatever was there before, it wasn't there now.

Barry let out a shaky breath before closing his eyes again, ignoring the chill that seemed to run through him. Sleep didn't come easy to him again, but it came eventually. It seemed that he'd be in for another long, exhausting day tomorrow.


	4. Sleep Deprivation

**Sleep Deprivation**

* * *

An annoying tune broke through the veil of unconsciousness that Barry was currently engulfed in. It took him a few moments to realize that the melody was coming from his phone.

His alarm was going off.

Barry groaned and reached for his phone, his eyes still closed tightly against the morning light that was seeping through his eyelids. His fingers finally wrapped around the small device to turn it off, but he let it slip from his grasp when Barry suddenly felt someone roughly grab his wrist, yanking it painfully.

Barry's eyes shot open as he gasped and pulled his arm away. He quickly scrambled to the other side of his bed, away from the person. He then blearily looked around. His room was empty. There was no person standing next to his bed like he had been imagining. Barry rubbed his wrist in confusion as he looked around. His wrist hurt like hell. It had felt like someone had grabbed and violently twisted it backwards.

He must have smacked it against the nightstand or something. That was the only thing he could think he could have done to have it hurting like this. He had still been half asleep, after all. Barry sighed when he realized his phone was still playing the same annoying tune. He climbed out of bed and looked around. His phone had clearly fallen to the floor. He could hear it ringing under his bed.

Barry stooped down and reached under the bed for it with his non-sore hand. His fingers skimmed across the floor, but he didn't feel his phone anywhere. He reached further under the bed, straining to find his phone to stop the annoying ringing. He couldn't feel anything, though.

With a sigh, Barry lowered himself down to lay on his stomach on the floor to see where his phone had gone. He found it quickly then, surprised to find that it had skidded further under the bed than he originally thought. Even with his long arms, he had to slide partially under the bed just to reach it.

As his fingers closed around the small device, a movement suddenly caught his eye, and Barry's blood ran cold as he froze in place on the floor. A pair of bare feet were dangling from the bed on the other side from him. Someone was sitting on his bed. Barry blinked, thinking he was just imagining it, but the feet didn't disappear. The pale, thin ankles were still there, dangling from the bed on the other side, and Barry's heart leapt into his throat when the pair of feet suddenly moved and planted themselves on the floor with a thud.

Someone was standing on the other side of the bed.

Barry quickly scrambled out from under the bed, hitting his head rather hard on the bedframe in the process. He quickly erected himself onto his knees, looking around the room with wide eyes. His eyes immediately landed on the figure standing in the doorway.

"Joe!" Barry shouted, clutching his chest, "You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

Joe gave him a confused look.

"What are you doing on the floor?" he asked in confusion.

"I dropped my phone," Barry explained, holding the phone up as he rubbed the back of his head where he had hit it.

Joe stared at him for a moment, giving him a strange look. Barry imagined he probably looked rather strange. He quickly rearranged his face to look a little less freaked out, even though his heart was still racing. He scrambled to get all the way back onto his feet again.

"Are you okay?" Joe asked anyways.

"I'm fine," Barry said distractedly, still looking around the room.

It was just him and Joe there. There was no one else. But what he had seen had definitely not been Joe's feet...

"Why?" Barry asked.

Joe stared at him.

"Your phone is still going off," he said, pointing to the phone in Barry's hand.

"Oh," Barry laughed, "Right."

He quickly silenced the alarm and tossed the phone on his bed.

"Barry, are you sure you're okay?" Joe asked worriedly, stepping forward in concern.

"I'm fine," Barry said hurriedly, "I have to shower quick. I don't want to be late."

Barry quickly crossed the room and brushed past Joe to exit the bedroom. He rushed to make his way down the hall to the bathroom, closing the door tightly behind him. With closed eyes, Barry took a deep breath and leaned against the door, trying to calm himself down. He opened his eyes after a moment and stared at the shower curtain, remembering the breathing he had heard behind it just the night before.

He wasn't going to mess around. Without hesitation, he quickly crossed the room and ripped the curtain back. The shower was empty.

Barry let out a heavy sigh.

"Get a hold of yourself, Barry," he muttered.

Barry stepped away from the shower then and moved back to the sink, turning on the faucet. He splashed some cold water in his face to clear his head. After taking another deep breath to calm himself, Barry yanked his shirt off over his head so he could take a shower. As he was turning away from the mirror, however, that's when he noticed it.

Barry's eyes widened and he turned a little more so he could see his back better in the mirror. He stared at the dark bruise that was covering a large portion of his back, right under his left shoulder blade. It was larger than the one he had had the day before, and it looked a lot darker. Barry touched it gently, hissing slightly when he felt how tender it was.

He turned back around to see his front. The bruise from yesterday was slightly faded, but it was still there. Barry stared at it in disbelief. It shouldn't still be there. It definitely should have healed by now. As he looked over the rest of his body, he noticed another one just above his collar bone, and when he removed his sweatpants, he found another large one on his thigh. They definitely hadn't been there yesterday.

This was very strange. He couldn't recall how he hadn't gotten a single one of them. He should probably tell Caitlin about it—have her check his platelet levels or something. He shouldn't be bruising like this. It didn't make any sense.

Looking his body over one last time in the mirror, Barry sighed and moved towards the shower. As he showered, he wondered if all the strange things that were happening were just in his head. The frying pan falling. His alarm clock stopping at the same time every night. The figure watching him sleep. The bruises. The feet…

That's what had him the most freaked out. Clearly, there hadn't actually been someone there or Joe would have seen them, too, which meant that Barry was seeing things. He had to be. Maybe the others were right. Maybe there _was_ something wrong with him.

Barry swallowed back a lump in his throat. He couldn't deal with this right now. His father had just died, and he had enough other things going on. He couldn't afford to be losing his mind right now. The idea alone brought tears to his eyes. He had spent half his life being told that he was crazy and delusional. Now, he was actually considering the idea that maybe it was true.

No.

He wasn't crazy. He was just tired. He had slept terribly the last couple nights since he had come back from wherever it was he had been. Also, it was unlikely he got much rest in that dark void when he was there. Not to mention the fact that he had been sleeping terribly for the last two months since his father had died.

Sleep deprivation. That was it. He had read about countless studies done on sleep deprivation. Paranoia, jumpiness, delusions…hallucinations. That was all a part of it. Extreme, prolonged sleep deprivation had been found to cause all those things.

Sure enough, once Barry was out of the shower and he looked in the mirror, he saw now that he had bags under his eyes. He was completely exhausted.

"Hey, Barry?" Joe said through the door.

"Yeah?" Barry answered shakily.

"Can you come downstairs when you're ready?"

"Sure," Barry sighed.

He knew where this was going. Joe could clearly tell that there was something up with him. Barry hadn't exactly been playing it cool these last couple days. Joe had even accused him last night of being post-traumatic, something that still made Barry's blood boil every time he thought about it. Joe no doubt wanted to talk to Barry about it some more. He wished he wouldn't. Barry just wanted to act like these past few days hadn't happened. He just wanted everything to go back to normal again.

He was surprised, though, when he went downstairs and found that that wasn't why Joe had wanted to talk to him. Joe was standing in the living room, hands on his hips as he looked around the room. Barry looked around, too, and immediately saw why.

A good portion of their picture frames were strewn all over the floor, having been knocked off the tables, walls and fireplace mantel where they had been on display. Some of them were even broken.

"What happened?" Barry asked, looking at the mess.

"I was hoping _you_ could tell me that," Joe said seriously.

Barry looked at Joe then and saw the look that the other man was giving him.

"Do you…do you think _I_ did this?" Barry asked in disbelief.

"That's not what I said," Joe said with a sigh, "I just wanted to know if you know what happened."

Barry shook his head slowly, looking at all the photos on the floor. He bent down and picked one of them up. It was a picture of him and Iris, back when they were both still in high school.

"Did someone break in or something?" Barry asked quietly.

"And they broke in _just_ to throw our photo frames on the floor?" Joe asked skeptically.

He shook his head at Barry.

"I highly doubt that," Joe continued seriously, "All the doors were locked, and there are no signs that anyone broke in here last night."

"How did it happen then?" Barry asked, picking up another photo.

Joe sighed.

"I don't know, Bar," he said quietly, "That's why I'm asking you."

Barry simply shrugged.

"Well, I'm as baffled as you are," he said honestly.

Joe nodded slowly.

"Okay," he said quietly, but Barry had the strange feeling Joe didn't believe him for some reason.

He had no reason not to, though. Why would Barry do that? Why on earth would he go in their living room knock all their photo frames on the floor?!

"I should get going to work," Joe said then, "Would you mind…?"

Barry nodded.

"I'll use my speed to clean it up," he said quietly.

Joe nodded and put his coat on.

"Okay," he said, "I'll see you at work then."

After Joe had walked out the front door, leaving Barry alone, Barry just stood there for a moment, looking around the room. He could add this to his list of strange things that were happening lately. Barry sighed and picked up another photo frame, a picture of him and Joe from Barry's first day at the CCPD. Barry frowned at it, looking up then to look over the room again.

That was when he realized not _all_ of the photos had been knocked down. A handful of them were still in their usual places on display. Only photos of Joe and Iris were left standing—none of Barry. As Barry picked up the photos that were on the floor, he realized that he was in every single one of them. It was as if whoever had done it had intentionally knocked down only the photos of Barry.

Barry continued to be baffled as he picked up the rest of the mess. He returned most of the photos to their rightful places, setting aside the few that were broken. He looked around the room again for a moment, still completely puzzled, before flashing out the house to get to work on time.

* * *

Barry yawned as he worked endlessly to get caught up on his case reports. He didn't really mind doing the work, though. It was a welcome distraction from everything that was going on. He had had a strange night, followed by an even stranger morning. He liked the normalcy his work provided.

He supposed he should go grab some lunch soon. Barry looked down at his watch. It was almost noon.

No, wait.

It had to be closer to one by this point. Most of the other CCPD employees had come back from lunch already. Barry looked closer at his watch, and his breath hitched in his throat.

11:52

It wasn't just his alarm clock. His watch had stopped last night. too.

No. Barry wasn't going to react to it. The watch had always been a little haywire, ever since Joe had given it to him. It was old, after all.

Barry undid the strap around his wrist and took the watch off. He felt a little guilty because it was a gift, but he kind of didn't want to look at it right now. He didn't want to start thinking about all of this again. He'd rather just ignore it. It made him feel better to pretend like everything was normal—that he wasn't losing his mind.

Barry sighed and stood up from his desk. He wasn't going to use his lunch break to get food. No, he was going to go talk to Cisco. He needed some answers about what had really happened to him this last weekend. Cisco might know something—something he wasn't telling the rest of them.

When Barry flashed to STAR Labs, it was to find Caitlin working in the cortex. She turned to look at him when he flashed in.

"You look tired," she observed, a worried look on her face.

"Just a rough night's sleep," Barry said dismissively, "Is Cisco around?"

"He went to grab us lunch," she said simply, turning back to her gene sequencing software.

She had been completely absorbed in a project of her own lately: mapping out Barry's genetic sequence. It was kind of funny actually. While they had been mapping out the entire multiverse, Caitlin had been mapping out Barry's DNA. They had been thinking big, while Caitlin had been completely absorbed in the small.

It was a good thing, too. While Caitlin was preoccupied with what she was doing on her computer screen, Barry took advantage of her distraction by silently crossing the cortex to their filing cabinet. Caitlin had a whole drawer there where she kept all of Barry's medical information.

Barry quietly opened it and pulled out the most recent file: his CBC from a few days ago. He started flipping through it, scanning over all the information. Damn, Caitlin was thorough; that was for sure. Barry hadn't even realized just how many tests she did with the blood samples she was regularly taking from him all the time.

"Looking for something?" Caitlin asked suddenly from right behind him.

Barry jumped a mile and spun around.

"Jesus!" he yelled, "Why the hell is everyone sneaking up on me lately?!"

Caitlin frowned at him.

"Sorry," she said, "I wasn't trying to scare you."

"You didn't," Barry lied stiffly, turning and looking back down at his file.

"Okay," Caitlin said disbelievingly, still frowning at him, "So are you going to answer my question?"

"What?" Barry said distractedly, still looking through the file.

Caitlin sighed impatiently.

"What are you looking for, Barry?"

Barry let out a heavy sigh and looked at her again.

"My platelet count," he answered stiffly.

Caitlin gave him a confused look for a moment before answering him.

"It's three-seventy-two-thousand," she said.

Barry stared at her.

"You _memorized_ it?" he asked incredulously.

Caitlin rolled her eyes.

"I don't take blood samples from you for _fun_ , Barry," she said, "I _do_ actually run tests on them."

"Still," he said, "It's a little weird that you can remember all the results off the top of your head."

Caitlin just shook her head at him.

"Are you going to tell me why you randomly wanted to know your platelet count?" she asked.

Barry sighed.

"It doesn't matter," he said, "It's normal, so I'm good."

"But _why_ did you want to know?" she pressed, "That's a pretty random thing to be wondering about."

Barry didn't look at her. He closed the file and carefully placed it back in the drawer where he had found it.

"Barry," Caitlin said firmly.

Barry sighed. She wasn't going to let this go.

"I have more bruises," he said quietly.

Caitlin stared at him for a moment, her eyes going wide.

"Take off your shirt," she demanded suddenly.

"What?"

"Just do it, Barry," she said warningly.

Barry sighed and begrudgingly removed his shirt. Caitlin gasped when she saw his bare chest. She reached out and touched the bruise above his collarbone.

"What did you _do_ , Barry?"

"Nothing," he said defensively, "I woke up with them."

Caitlin grabbed his shoulder and quickly spun him around to look at his back.

"You must have done _something_ ," she insisted as she looked him over, "These are _big_ bruises, Barry. People don't just bruise like this for no reason."

"I know," he said irritably, "Which is why I wanted to know my platelet count."

Caitlin gave him an uneasy look.

"I'm going to take another blood sample," she said worriedly then, "I'll recheck it for you."

She was just finishing drawing her blood sample from him when Cisco walked in, a few bags of Big Belly Burger in his hand.

"Oh, shit," he said when he saw Barry there, rolling his sleeve back down, "Sorry, man. I would have gotten a _lot_ more food if I had known you'd be joining us for lunch."

"That's fine," Barry said quickly, "I didn't come here to eat. Actually, can I talk to you for a moment, Cisco?"

Cisco gave him a puzzled look but then nodded.

"Sure," he said.

Before Cisco knew it, Barry had flashed them both into Cisco's workshop.

"Dude!" he yelled, "How many times do I have to ask you?! _Please_ warn me first before you do that!"

"Sorry," Barry said quickly, "I just wanted to ask you something."

"Well, ask away then," Cisco said breathlessly, bracing himself against a chair as he attempted to reestablish his equilibrium.

"I…um," Barry said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, "I wanted to know more about your vibe…from when I was missing."

Cisco looked away then, his expression uneasy.

"What about it?" he asked.

"I want to know what you really saw," Barry said firmly.

"I _told_ you what I saw," Cisco said, "I didn't _see_ anything. It was only darkness."

"Caitlin said you had a panic attack," Barry accused, "You saw _something_ , Cisco."

Cisco sighed.

"I asked her not to tell you about that," he said quietly.

"What did you see, Cisco?" Barry asked urgently, "Please, _tell me_."

Cisco sighed heavily and gave him an uneasy look.

"I didn't lie," he said, "I really didn't _see_ anything."

"Then why did you panic?" Barry asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

Cisco looked down at the floor.

"It wasn't what I _saw_ that freaked me out," Cisco said quietly, "It's what I _felt_."

"What did you feel?" Barry asked quietly.

Cisco shook his head.

"I don't know exactly," he admitted, "It was cold…and empty. It was…"

"It was _what_ , Cisco?" Barry whispered.

Cisco looked up at him then, tears in his eyes.

"It was death."


	5. There's Someone in the House

**Note: Wally is appearing in this chapter. I'm sure I don't need to say this—you'll figure it out quickly—but I'm not a huge fan of Wally. I find him petty and immature. I know my portrayal of Wally in my writing is a little biased, but this is how I see him.**

 **Side Note: Wally doesn't have any powers at this point in the show.**

 **Disclaimer: There's a scene in this chapter that is heavily based off of a scene from the Conjuring 2. Just throwing that out there right away. Like I said in the beginning, bits and pieces of this story are going to be inspired by the many scary movies I've seen.**

* * *

 **There's Someone in the House**

* * *

Running always gave Barry the chance to clear his mind, a chance to escape everything for a little while. As the world turned into a blur around him, Barry could focus solely on his feet on the ground, the wind rushing past his face, the speed force crackling through his veins. He didn't have to think about anything else.

At least, that was usually the case.

Even while he was running, Barry still couldn't help but ponder over his conversation with Cisco. Cisco had laughed it off, insisted he was just being stupid or dramatic, but Barry couldn't dismiss the whole thing so easily. Cisco had put words to what Barry had already been thinking.

The place that he had gone to, wherever it had been, hadn't felt like anything he had ever experienced before. It hadn't felt natural. The sheer coldness and emptiness of it was a feeling he would never forget. It was really all he could remember about the experience.

Death was maybe a bit of a dramatic way to describe it, but Barry couldn't deny: it was what he had always imagined death to feel like. Wherever he had been, it hadn't felt like a place where the living were meant to be. It had felt like he was on the bottom of the ocean or in the deep void of space. Just dark emptiness.

Maybe that was why he was slowly losing it. Two whole days in a place like that couldn't be good for anybody's sanity. Maybe Barry didn't remember anything because there really wasn't anything to remember. Maybe he had just been in the empty darkness the entire time. That, alone, could be enough to be the cause of his anxiety now.

Barry just wanted to sleep more than anything, but he couldn't. Wally was coming home from school today, and they were going to have a big family dinner together to celebrate the end of his final exams. As Barry helped Iris cook dinner for everyone, he found it difficult not to think about what Cisco had said. He knew he should put it from his mind, like Cisco clearly had, but he couldn't help it. He was dwelling on it.

"Barry," Iris's voice broke through his thoughts.

Barry turned to look at her, realizing only now that she had been talking this entire time.

"Hmm?' he responded.

She gave him an impatient look.

"I asked you if you'd be willing to do an interview about the Henderson case for me, now that it's closed and no longer under investigation."

"Oh," Barry said tiredly.

He sighed then.

"I'm sorry, Iris," he said, "I'd have to check with Singh first. I'm sure he doesn't want his CSI talking to the media about it, even if the case is already closed. I'll ask him."

"Okay then," she sighed, a little disappointed, "Thanks."

Barry nodded and went back to cutting up the onions for the casserole Iris was making.

"Are you alright?" she asked then, "You seem distracted."

Barry sighed and nodded.

"I'm fine," he replied stiffly.

He was getting tired of people constantly asking him if he was okay, as if they were waiting for him to crack—to burst out in tears as he finally succumbed to his grief. He was fine, though, and really, he found their vigilant surveillance on him more irritating than anything else. Even now, Iris was still staring thoughtfully at him.

"What's wrong, Bar?" she asked anyways.

Barry sighed. He didn't know what to say.

"Iris," he said slowly, not sure if he should say anything.

He couldn't keep this all to himself anymore, though. He had to talk to _someone_ about it.

"Iris, what do you think happens after we die?" he asked quietly.

Iris stared at him for a moment, her expression becoming soft and sympathetic.

"Oh, Barry," she said sadly.

With a jolt, Barry realized what she must be thinking.

"It's not about my dad," he said quickly, internally cursing himself.

Of course, she would think it was about that.

"It's something I've just been wondering about lately," he said lamely.

Iris continued to give Barry the same puppy-dog look, and it was clear that she still thought he was talking about his dad. Maybe, he kind of _was,_ though. He couldn't honestly say that he hadn't been thinking about this for a while, even before all of these strange things started to happen.

"I don't know, Barry," Iris replied quietly.

Barry was going to say something else, something to placate Iris and assure her that this wasn't about his dad and that he was fine, but just then, Wally entered the kitchen.

"Finals are finally over!" he said triumphantly.

Iris laughed.

"Congrats, Wally," she said happily.

Wally grinned as he sat down at a stool in front of the counter where they were cooking.

"Glad to see you made it back in one piece, Barry," he said then, taking Barry a little off guard.

Barry gave him a confused look.

"Your disappearance this weekend," Wally explained, "Everyone was freaking out about it."

"Oh," Barry said, "Right."

He had forgotten that Wally usually came home on the weekends. He had probably been there the entire time when they were trying to figure out where Barry had been.

"Did you remember anything yet?" Wally asked curiously.

Barry shook his head.

"Not really," he said simply.

Wally thankfully let it drop then, clearly sensing that Barry didn't really want to talk about it.

The dinner seemed to pass by incredibly slowly for Barry. It wasn't that he didn't want to spend time with his family. He was just so exhausted, and he was looking forward to going to bed to get a decent night's sleep. It didn't end with the dinner, though. After eating, everyone else wanted to play games and turn it into one of their classic family game nights.

"What should we play?" Joe asked everyone happily.

He was always so giddy to have all his kids in one place together. Barry didn't want to spoil his happy mood by declining to play, so he sat on the couch with all of them as they tried to decide on a game.

"I don't know," Iris said, "We can't play speed stacker or anything involving speed, for that matter. Barry cheats."

She laughed and looked at Barry. Barry managed a small laugh.

"It's not cheating if I'm just using my natural abilities," he joked.

"How about Wii?" Joe asked, "We haven't played any Wii games in a while."

"Name one Wii game that doesn't involve speed," Wally challenged, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

It was true. Barry could easily dominate at just about any Wii game. Wii Sports was out of the question, as was just about any other game they could think of. It actually kind of sucked. Barry and Iris used to play Guitar Hero all the time together, but the game had become rather boring for Barry. Even at expert level, the game seemed to be in slow motion for him. He got a perfect score every time.

"Trivial pursuit?" Joe suggested.

"That'd be fun," Iris agreed.

Wally sighed but nodded. Barry knew why he didn't seem particularly happy about that choice. Barry tended to dominate in that as well, but to be fair, he didn't use any of his speed force abilities to do it. It wasn't his fault that he was gifted with a sharp brain that seemed to retain a million useless facts nobody else cared about.

"How about Monopoly?" Barry suggested instead.

He didn't really feel like getting into it with Wally tonight, especially now. Wally seemed to think that he had no choice but to be nice to Barry lately, ever since his dad had died. Barry could tell that Wally still felt the need to compete with Barry sometimes, but he couldn't really be a dick about it because Barry was still grieving. Barry hated it.

"Monopoly it is then," Joe said happily.

Barry nodded and walked over to the coat closet, where they kept their board games on the top shelf. Barry opened the door, and he was reaching up to grab the game when a small movement caught his eye. One of the jackets in the closet had moved slightly. Barry stared at it. It was Joe's old patrol jacket, one that he no longer wore at scenes anymore.

Barry reached out and touched it. The whole closet seemed to be freezing, the same deep chill that Barry had noticed in the pantry a few nights ago. Shuddering slightly, Barry peered into the dark closet, trying to find the source of the movement as his heartrate picked up.

He could hear it. Whatever _it_ was. He could hear it breathing in the darkness. Barry strained his ears to listen closer. He almost thought he could hear it whispering something to him, but he couldn't make out the words.

Something suddenly touched his shoulder. Barry jumped and spun around, heart racing. He came face to face with Iris.

"Did you find it?" she asked, smiling at him.

Barry let out a large breath he hadn't realized he had been holding.

"Yeah," he said, turning back around to reach up and grab the game off the shelf.

Barry peered into the dark closet for a prolonged second before slowly closing the door.

"What's wrong?" Iris asked when he turned back around and she got a closer look at his face.

"Nothing," Barry answered, his mouth dry.

As it turned out, Monopoly was not the best game Barry could have picked. The game took _forever_. It was well past ten by the time they finished, Joe coming out victorious. Barry was completely exhausted by the time Iris left to go back to her apartment.

Joe and Barry, who had both worked all day, were more than ready for bed after that, but Wally decided to stay up after the other two had disappeared to retire for the evening.

He was so glad that he didn't have school in the morning now that he was finished for the semester. Wally was a bit bitter about the fact that he had decided to sign up for summer courses, but at least he had the rest of this week off before those started. He was going to enjoy it while he could, and that meant staying up late.

Wally rolled his eyes as he searched through their Netflix account and saw all the nerdy documentaries that were still saved in their watch list. They no doubt were Barry's. He didn't know why the guy had even bothered to bookmark them. He'd never find the time to watch any of them. He was too busy most of the time.

Wally was just happy that Friends was on Netflix now. You weren't a college student until you binge-watched every episode of Friends. It had been a few hours since they had eaten dinner, so it wasn't long before Wally decided to go to the kitchen to grab a snack.

Even with the fridge fully stocked, Wally couldn't find anything that looked particularly appealing, so he made his way over to the pantry instead. He opened the door and stared into the small space for a moment. He had a twisting feeling in his gut for some weird reason. Dismissing it, Wally tried the light switch. He was surprised when it actually turned on. Barry had finally changed the light bulb. Joe had only been asking him to do it all week.

Wally stepped into the small room and looked over the shelf. He made a face of disgust when he saw the three boxes of Barry's calorie bars sitting there, taking up a ridiculous amount of space. Wally was still disgusted every time he saw them. Before he had known Barry was the Flash, he had tried one of them. Joe had told them they were Barry's, but he had helped himself to one anyways, thinking Barry wouldn't notice, considering he had three whole boxes worth. Wally had thrown up for a solid hour after eating it.

Now, Wally couldn't even look at them without his stomach churning. His eyes moved down the shelves and landed on something else that had caught his eye. He groaned internally.

For real?

The Flash had his own _cereal_ now?

Wally rolled his eyes and picked up the box. It had a big lightning bolt on the front. He opened it and pulled out a small handful. The cereal was also in the shape of small lightning bolts. He tried a few of them and was surprised that they actually weren't too bad.

Who was he kidding? They were amazing.

Wally sighed and took the box with him as he walked out of the pantry, turning the light off behind him as he went. He settled back down on the couch with the box, resuming his show. A half hour later, Wally was laughing at his show, his mouth full of Flash cereal, when he heard a small noise from behind him. He twisted in his seat to look behind him, expecting Barry to be coming downstairs for a speedster-craving-induced midnight snack or something, but there was no one there. Wally shrugged and looked back at the TV, yawning slightly.

He looked at the wall clock in the living room. It was almost midnight. Wally hadn't been planning to go to bed until at least one, but he was more tired from his exams than he originally thought. With a sigh, Wally turned off the TV and made his way up the stairs. He was almost to his room when he heard another quiet noise. This one was different, though. Before, it had just been a small bump. What he heard now sounded more like whimpering.

Wally strained his ears and quickly determined that the sound was coming from Barry's room. His door was slightly ajar, which was kind of strange. Barry normally closed it. Wally gently pushed the door open a little further and stepped into the dark room. He quickly found Barry to be thrashing and whimpering in his sleep, tears streaming from his eyes.

Wally stood there awkwardly for a moment, not knowing what to do. Maybe he should go get his dad. He didn't really know Barry well enough to feel comfortable waking him up, himself. Barry let out another soft cry, though, and Wally decided it was best to wake him up right away.

"Barry," he said awkwardly, shaking Barry's shoulder.

Even though the guy was covered in sweat, Wally was surprised when he touched Barry's arm and found it to be ice cold. The guy was _freezing_!

"Barry," he said a little louder when Barry continued to whimper in his sleep, tears streaming down his face.

Wally's head whipped up when he suddenly heard a loud bump in the corner of the room. He froze where he stood.

Someone was standing there.

Wally couldn't see them clearly, but there was definitely someone standing in the far corner of the room. Wally rushed to turn on the light.

It was gone.

He let out a sigh of relief. He could have sworn he saw someone standing there.

Letting it go, Wally moved back to Barry and shook him a little harder now.

"Barry, wake up!" he said loudly.

Barry's eyes snapped open and looked around, quickly landing on Wally.

"Wally?" he asked tiredly, rubbing his eyes.

He sat up a little more in bed then.

"What is it?" Barry asked urgently, looking around, "What's wrong?"

"You tell _me_ ," Wally replied, "You were crying in your sleep."

"I wasn't crying," Barry said, his face reddening.

He reached up and felt the tears on his face then, a confused expression occupying his features. Barry quickly wiped them away.

"I'm good," he said quickly.

"You sure?" Wally asked uncertainly.

Barry nodded.

"Yeah," he said, glancing at his alarm clock, "I'm…good."

Barry continued to stare at the clock, though Wally didn't know why.

"Okay," he said awkwardly, stepping toward the door, "Sorry to wake you."

He moved to turn off the light again but stopped when Barry spoke.

"You can leave it on," he said quickly.

Wally paused and gave Barry a strange look.

"Sure," he said, furrowing his eyebrows, "Goodnight, Barry."

"Goodnight," Barry said quietly before Wally left the room, closing the door behind him.

That was really weird, Wally thought. Then again, Barry was always kind of a weird guy. Wally couldn't really hold it against him, though. The guy was grieving his father's death. Wally would bet anything that that was what Barry had been dreaming about, considering the tears.

With a sigh, Wally walked the rest of the way down the hallway to his room. He yawned as he climbed into bed. He didn't understand why he was this tired. It was only around midnight according to the clock next to his bed, but to him, it felt like it was at least one, if not two.

* * *

Joe yawned as he descended the stairs and walked into the living room. For some reason, he hadn't slept very well last night, even though he had thought he was going to sleep like a rock with how tired he had been. He spent most of the night tossing and turning, unable to stay asleep. He had finally decided to just get up and start his day early, and it looked like he wasn't the only one.

"You're up early," Joe said when he found Barry in the living room, sitting on the couch.

Barry was tampering with something in his lap, but he stopped when he looked over at Joe.

"Couldn't sleep," he said simply as he stood up and walked over to the wall.

Barry reached up and rehung the clock that was usually there. Joe watched him curiously but didn't ask.

"Me neither," he said, yawning, "Today's going to be a long day."

Barry nodded.

"Wally's lucky," he said, "He gets to sleep in today."

Joe chuckled.

"Yeah, a day off would be nice," he agreed.

He looked closer at Barry then. The kid didn't look good at all. He looked completely drained.

"What time did you get up?" Joe asked curiously.

Barry shrugged.

"Not that long ago," he answered vaguely before heading toward the stairs, "I'm going to go get ready for work."

Joe nodded, a thoughtful look on his face as he watched Barry shuffle sluggishly up the stairs.

* * *

Barry fought to keep his eyes open as he stood over the sink, brushing his teeth. He had been up all night. After Wally had woken him up, he had been unable to go back to bed. He knew he needed sleep, but it was kind of hard to sleep when he felt like there was someone else in the room with him. Even with the lights on, Barry still had had the feeling he wasn't alone.

He knew it was all in his head, but there were some things that he knew he wasn't imagining, like the fact that every single clock in the house stopped at 11:52 last night. It wasn't just his alarm clock and his watch. It was all of them now. Barry spent a good portion of his morning resetting all of them while everyone else was still asleep.

He wasn't going to let this thing mess with him. He was going to go about his day and ignore it; That was all he really _could_ do. Deny it.

Barry shakily reached up and pulled down the collar of the turtleneck he had put on. He didn't normally wear sweaters like this, but it was the only thing he could find that hid the dark purple bruise that was on his neck. Barry stared at it in the mirror. The bruise was still forming, but even now he could see that it was in the shape of a hand, just the like the others he had found on his body that morning.

Barry's eyes burned with tears as he looked at it. He was so confused. What was happening to him?! Barry slid his collar back up to cover it. He didn't want anyone else to see it. They would think he had been attacked or something!

Barry's ears were ringing as he put his toothbrush away. It had been happening a lot lately. A soft ringing sound seemed to always be filling his ears now. Sometimes, if he stopped and listened to it long enough, he almost thought he could hear something else, though, but he didn't know what.

After quickly combing his hair, Barry made his way down the stairs again. He gave Joe a wide smile once he reached the landing.

"See you at work," he said cheerfully, before flashing out the door.

* * *

Something was seriously up with Barry. Joe could tell. Throughout the week, Barry was strangely cheery, talking animatedly to everyone and even cooking dinner for them a few times, but Joe could tell that there was something off about him. He had raised the kid, after all. He knew when Barry was happy, and when he was _pretending_ to be happy.

Really, though, Joe had gotten used to Barry's false cheeriness by now. He had been doing it for almost two months, ever since his father had died. Barry had never really allowed himself to grieve Henry's death. After defeating Zoom, Barry had gone numb for a while, and then he had went right back to acting like everything was normal. He wasn't sad. In fact, he had been overwhelmingly cheerful. Joe knew it wasn't genuine happiness, though. It was just Barry's way of coping.

It wasn't healthy, and Joe didn't really know what to do about it. He couldn't really give Barry the same "it's okay to be sad" speech that he had given him when he was child and his mom had just been murdered. Joe's speeches had lost their effect on him now, and every time Joe brought it up, Barry insisted that he was fine.

Whatever had happened to him last weekend seemed to have made the whole thing worse. Barry was being overly cheerful again.

Yet, under the surface, Barry still seemed to be on edge. He jumped at the smallest noises, and he always seemed to be on high alert now. It was also painfully obvious he wasn't sleeping. His lack of sleep had moved past just the visible symptoms now. It was more than just his exhausted-looking appearance. Barry was constantly nodding off at work now, and his mind definitely seemed to be moving slower.

Joe just didn't know what to do about it. When Barry was a teenager, he had suffered from anxiety and sleeping problems, too. After being diagnosed with PTSD, Barry had been prescribed anti-anxiety medication, and while he had always been reluctant to take it, it had helped him sometimes.

Medication wasn't an option now, though, as Caitlin painfully told Joe when he went to talk to her about it.

"I wish I could give him something to help him," she said sadly, "But there's nothing that would work with his metabolism."

"What about sedating him?" Joe asked, "He needs to sleep, Caitlin. We've tranquilized him before. Is sedation an option?"

"I suppose," she said slowly, "But Barry didn't exactly react well when we tranquilized him the first time."

"Yeah," Joe sighed, "I remember. This time, it would be voluntary, though. We could talk him into it."

"Even if we got Barry to agree to it," Caitlin said, "it's still just a bandaid solution. It's not going to fix the problem."

She let out a heavy sigh.

"Joe," she said gently, "Have you even considered that maybe just _talking_ to him would be a better option?"

"Of _course_ I have," Joe said irritably, "But he won't talk to me. He won't tell me what's bothering him."

Caitlin nodded sadly.

"Yeah, that sounds like Barry," she said quietly.

"Caitlin," Joe said seriously, "I'm _scared_. Something really strange is going on with him. Some things have been happening at home that are really weird, and I'm convinced Barry's at the center of it."

"What kinds of things?" Caitlin asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

Joe sighed and shook his head.

"I don't know," he said quietly, "I think Barry's been sleepwalking or something. He used to when he was a kid, and I think it might be what's happening now. Although, I haven't seen him actually doing it."

"What makes you think that?" Caitlin asked in confusion.

"I can hear Barry moving around throughout the house at night," Joe told her seriously, "And he moves things around, but then he denies it the next day. I'm almost positive that he must be sleepwalking."

"That might explain the bruises," Caitlin said thoughtfully.

"Bruises?" Joe asked seriously, " _What_ bruises?"

Caitlin sighed.

"I first noticed them when I was doing his routine EKG last week," she said, "And he came to me the next day with more of them. I've ran all the blood counts and tests that I could think of, but I don't know what's causing it. Barry hasn't let me examine him since, and I'm almost positive it's because he has more of them and doesn't want me to see them. If he's sleepwalking, that could be how he's getting them."

"How bad are these bruises we're talking about?" Joe asked seriously.

The doctor sighed.

"Bad," she answered quietly, "At least the ones I've _seen_. They seem a bit excessive for someone who's been sleepwalking, though. You'd think he'd wake up if he was injuring himself that bad. You'd have to bump into something pretty hard to cause that kind of damage."

"Unless he's not bumping into things," Joe said darkly.

"What do you mean?" she asked in confusion, "You think he did it some other way?"

"Maybe the bruises aren't an accident," Joe suggested.

Caitlin gave him a confused look.

"You think Barry's hurting himself on purpose?" she asked incredulously.

"Not consciously," Joe said quickly, "Barry would never hurt himself consciously, but I don't know. Maybe _subconsciously_ he feels the need to…I don't know… _punish_ himself."

Caitlin shook her head at him.

" _Why_?" she asked skeptically.

Joe sighed.

"We all know how he feels about how things went down with Zoom," he said sadly, "Barry blames himself for his own father's death. Maybe the guilt has gotten to be too much for him."

Caitlin gave Joe a skeptical look.

"That's a bit of a stretch to assume he's hurting himself in his sleep," she said with a sigh, "But I suppose it's as good a guess as any. Barry's been through a lot. Who knows how that kind of psychological stress could present itself? Greif can be a strange thing sometimes."

Joe nodded sadly.

"I'll try to keep an eye on him," he said seriously, "We'll get to the bottom of this."

* * *

Barry couldn't say he was exactly disappointed to be home today. A day off was nice every once in a while. He just didn't like the circumstances behind it. Joe had bullied him into taking a sick day to get some rest. Barry must have looked more drained than he thought because even the captain sided with Joe on this one. Although, the captain had been urging him to take a few days off ever since his dad had died.

Barry really appreciated the opportunity to rest, but he also kind of dreaded it. For one thing, he didn't really want to let himself fall asleep. And for another, he actually really didn't want to be alone. Being alone made him feel…scared.

He didn't want to admit it to himself, but he was scared. That was ridiculous, though. He was a _superhero_. He shouldn't be afraid of anything. But Barry _was_ afraid. He was terrified. All the time now, Barry was terrified. And he didn't even know of what.

Barry didn't mean to fall asleep. He had just been sitting on the couch, watching a documentary that he had been meaning to watch for weeks now, but he couldn't help it when he finally dozed off, still sitting upright on the couch.

Barry was only half asleep when he was suddenly jerked awake again. He looked at the TV. The channel had just changed. Instead of his documentary, an old TV show now occupied the screen: I Dream of Jeanie. Barry stared at the screen in confusion for a moment before looking around him for the remote. He didn't see it anywhere near him, though. He checked all the couch cushions in frustration, thinking maybe it had fallen through one of the cracks or something. Barry sighed as he stood up and got down on his hands and knees, checking under the couch. He reached under it and felt around.

He froze then, staring at a chair on the other side of the room. The remote was sitting on top of it. For a moment, all Barry could do was stare at it. He knew he hadn't set it there. He had had it next to him on the couch. He _knew_ he had.

Barry quickly got up from the floor and crossed the room, snatching the remote off the chair angrily. He was getting really sick of this, sick of finding things in places where they shouldn't be. He was sick of getting blamed for it, too—sick of Joe asking him if he had done it when he hadn't. Barry was getting fed up with all of this.

He pointed the remote at the television and turned it off. As soon as the screen went black, that's when Barry saw it. The reflection.

His own face mirrored back at him, and there was someone standing behind him.

Barry spun around. The room was empty.

A chill ran down Barry's spine. He was losing his damn mind. He hadn't seen anything and had only thought he had.

Even though he wanted desperately to go to sleep, Barry decided to try to find something else to occupy his mind. He sat back down on the couch, pointedly not looking at the chair in the corner of the room as he grabbed the stack of science magazines he had on the end table. They all were old, though. He had read all of them already.

With a sigh, Barry tossed the magazines aside in disappointment. Then he thankfully remembered he was supposed to be getting the next issue in the mail today. Barry stood up and walked towards the front door. As he stepped outside, he had to squint his tired eyes against the bright light of the sun while he walked to the mailbox.

Barry was disappointed when he didn't find a magazine in it, though—just junk mail. He was sifting through it, slowly walking back towards the house, when he looked up and saw it.

There was a figure standing in the upstairs window.

In his bedroom window, Barry could plainly see a person standing there, watching him. His blood ran cold.

In an instant, Barry flashed into the house and up the stairs. He burst into his bedroom, heart racing, but it was only to find an empty room. He briskly walked over to the window then and stared at it. There was a handprint there, smaller than his own. The window was misted around the edges of it, as if the hand it belonged to had just been there. He hadn't just been seeing things. Someone had really just been standing here a second ago.

Barry stared at it for only a moment before rushing over to grab his CSI bag. He was going to take a damn fingerprint sample from the thing, and he was going to find out once and for all who was messing with him.

He had only just gotten his bag open, though, when he saw something in his doorway. Someone had just walked passed it. He didn't just see it out of the corner of his eye. Barry had very clearly seen someone walk past. He had seen it plain as day.

Barry flashed out into the hallway but came to a stop in his tracks when he suddenly found himself face to face with Iris.

"Hey, Barry," she said cheerfully, "I brought you lunch. I figured you'd be hungry, so I—"

"Did you see her?" Barry asked frantically.

Iris gave him a confused look.

"See who?" she asked, looking around, "I didn't see anybody."

"Iris, there's someone in the house," Barry said urgently.

Iris's eyes widened.

"What?" she asked.

Barry grabbed Iris by the shoulder and steered her into his room.

"Stay in here and lock the door," he said seriously before closing the door in Iris's confused face.

He then flashed through the entire house, searching every inch of it. He flashed outside then, searching the street, but he found no one. He had seen her, though. She had been in the house. She had been in his _room_. The same room he had just had Iris lock herself in...

From where he stood in the street, Barry looked back up at the house, and his blood ran cold. There was someone standing in his bedroom window again, and it wasn't Iris.


	6. Crime Scene

**Crime Scene**

* * *

His heart leaping into his throat, Barry raced into the house as fast as he could to get to his bedroom. He didn't waste time pounding on the door, but instead phased right through it to get to Iris.

Iris gasped when he flashed into the room.

"Barry!" she yelled, clutching her heart, "I _hate_ it when you phase through things. You scared the crap out of me!"

Barry looked frantically around the room, but only Iris was there.

"What's wrong?" she asked him worriedly, "Did you catch them? Who _was_ it?"

"I didn't catch them," he said flatly, still looking around the room.

He opened his closet and turned the light on, pushing back all of his hangers to make sure there was no one hiding behind the clothes.

Iris watched Barry in confusion.

"Barry, are you sure you saw someone?" she asked quietly.

"Yes!" he shouted angrily, spinning on her, "I saw someone! There was someone in the house! A woman."

Barry angrily turned back to his closet, pushing the rest of his clothes aside just to be sure. There was no one there. When he turned back around, it was to find Iris looking at him worriedly, a slightly hurt look on her face from having him shout at her.

"I saw someone, Iris," he said desperately, "She was right here! She was standing in the window just now, while you were in the room."

"Barry, there was no one here," Iris said gently, "And I didn't see anyone when I walked in…"

Barry let out a noise of frustration and spun around, storming over to his CSI bag.

"What are you doing, Barry?" Iris asked quietly.

"I'm taking a fingerprint sample," he said angrily, "I'm going to case this entire house and prove it. There was someone here."

Iris stared at his back as he dug through his bag, pulling out fingerprint strips and scanners.

"Barry…" she said softly.

Barry didn't say anything, though, as he went back to the window and started applying strips to the glass.

"Barry, maybe we should call my dad," Iris said uncertainly.

"No," Barry gritted out as he carefully peeled the strip off the window, "Don't call Joe."

Iris leaned up against the frame of Barry's bed with a heavy sigh as she watched him work.

"Don't touch anything!" Barry said urgently, causing her to leap away from the bed in shock, "You might contaminate evidence."

"Barry, there's no evidence to contaminate," she said gently.

"Yes, there is!" he shouted.

He continued to rush around the room, scanning different objects with devices Iris didn't recognize and pulling out different chemicals to run tests. He started spraying a bottle of some substance on different surfaces in the room, muttering frantically under his breath as he went.

"Barry…" Iris said sadly as she watched him race around the room, running his tests.

Barry pulled the curtains at the window, casting the room in darkness. Iris was confused at first until Barry pulled out a black light and started shining it on all of the surfaces he had sprayed. He shined it carefully on everything, pausing to look at any specks of light that showed up, but there was nothing out of the ordinary.

"Barry, you need to calm down," Iris implored desperately as Barry reopened the curtains in frustration.

Barry didn't stop, though, until he had thoroughly cased the entire house, like he had said he was going to do. Iris watched him worriedly the entire time, keeping silent for the majority of it. She noticed he spent an extra long time focusing on the pantry and the coat closet in the hall, but Barry didn't stop until he had covered every inch of the house, using almost all of his fingerprint strips to do it. Once he was finished collecting his "evidence" Iris finally spoke again.

"Barry, our house isn't a _crime scene_ ," she said desperately, "It's okay that you were mistaken. We all get a little paranoid sometimes."

"I wasn't mistaken, Iris," Barry spat, "There was someone here, and I'm going to prove it."

He flashed them to his lab then. Iris's head was spinning once they got there, and she leaned against a lab bench, taking deep breaths as Barry rushed over to his computer, already scanning the fingerprints he had collected from multiple surfaces throughout the house.

Barry knew he wasn't crazy, and he was going to prove it to her. All he needed was evidence to support him. He ran a scan on every fingerprint—every damn one of them. He knew his results would be limited, though. Fingerprints only showed up in the database if the person had been arrested before.

The majority of the fingerprints that showed up in the system were his and Joe's, and those were just in the system because they were CCPD employees. Barry's heart leapt when one of them, however, turned out to be a woman's.

He felt a sinking feeling of disappointment in his stomach, though, when it turned out to be Patty's, who had also been a CCPD employee. It had been quite a while since he had dated her, but one of her fingerprints must have been left behind in their house from the many times she had come over while they were dating.

Barry even found one from Leonard Snart from the time he had broken into their home to warn Barry about Mardon. He looked at the label on the fingerprint strip to see where in the house he had taken it.

That bastard. It was a sample from Barry's room. Of course the criminal had snooped through Barry's things. He should have guessed as much.

Barry sighed as he finished running his last scan, which showed no results. About a quarter of the prints he had taken had come up empty, including the one from the window. The prints without results could be anybody's, particularly Wally's or Iris's, considering neither of them were in the database. Barry didn't let that deter him, though. He started grabbing all the mystery fingerprint strips and held them up to the light, observing each of them, looking for differences in the basic fingerprint structure.

"Barry," Iris said quietly from behind him, "You need to stop."

He couldn't stop, though. He had to prove it. Stopping now would mean admitting that he had been wrong, that he had imagined the whole thing—that he was crazy. Barry determinedly moved on to process the rest of the evidence he had collected, starting with a mysterious reddish hair follicle he had found in their living room. He was disappointed, though, when it turned out to belong to one Caitlin Snow.

Iris didn't know what to do. Barry showed no signs of stopping. She really didn't even fully understand what had happened to get him so worked up. He seemed so sure that there had been somebody lurking in their house. Iris hadn't seen or heard anyone, though, and there definitely had not been anyone in the room with her when Barry had told her to go in his room and lock the door.

Also, if there really had been someone there, Barry would have caught them. Nobody could have been fast enough to escape the Flash, and Barry had certainly wasted no time trying to hunt them down.

Iris sighed as she watched Barry run his tests. She didn't know he had gotten to be this bad—this paranoid. She knew he had been jumpy lately, but not to this degree. She was just thinking of running downstairs to grab her dad when she found there was no need. The man, himself, walked into Barry's lab, carrying a case file that he had been intending to leave on Barry's desk.

He was surprised to see them there, to say the least.

"What's going on?" he asked Iris.

Barry was oblivious to Joe's arrival, completely absorbed in the tests he was frantically running.

"Ask Barry," Iris said quietly, "He's the one who insisted on coming here."

Joe turned to Barry then, who still had his back to them as rushed to process a DNA sample he had extracted from their home. Joe placed a hand gently on Barry's shoulder. Both he and Iris were surprised when Barry jumped and sucked in a ragged breath, spinning around.

"Easy, Bar. It's just me," Joe said in surprise, "What's going on? What are you doing here? You're supposed to be home, resting."

Barry just turned back around and went back to the analysis he was working on. Joe turned and looked back at Iris in confusion.

"He's really worked up right now," Iris said quietly to her father, "He's convinced he saw something in the house."

"Not some _thing_ ," Barry ejected, spinning on them again, "Some _one_."

When Barry turned back around to his work, Joe and Iris shared a look.

"There was no one there, dad," Iris whispered quietly to him so that Barry wouldn't hear.

Barry heard anyways, though, and he flashed over to her so fast, it made Iris jump. Suddenly, Barry's face was inches from hers.

"You think I'm crazy?" he asked quietly, a manic look in his eye.

Iris's eyes widened.

"No, Barry," she choked out, "Of course not."

"Bar," Joe said, putting a hand on Barry's shoulder to pull him back from Iris, "You need to calm down."

"I will _not_ calm down!" Barry yelled at him, "I saw her, Joe! There was a woman in our house!"

"What did she look like?" Joe asked calmly, humoring Barry.

Barry opened and closed his mouth, goggling at Joe.

"I…" he sputtered, "I didn't see her face."

Joe and Iris looked at each other, both with the same worried expression.

"But I definitely saw her," Barry insisted desperately, "She had dark hair and pale skin. I saw her in the window twice, and she was in the hall just outside my room."

"Barry, if she had been there, I would have seen her," Iris pointed out gently, "She would have had to walk right past me in the hallway. And when I was in your room and you said you saw her, there was no one there."

"Just because you didn't see her, it doesn't mean she wasn't there," Barry persisted.

"But the door was locked," Iris said quietly.

Barry sighed angrily and turned around, crossing the room to go back to his tests. Joe and Iris both looked at each other again.

"Bar," Joe said carefully to Barry's back, "You should go home. Let this go. You're supposed to be resting, and you look completely exhausted. You really need to sleep, Bar."

"I'm not crazy," Barry said quietly, not turning around to look at them, "I'm not crazy, Joe."

"Do you hear either of us calling you crazy here, Barry?" Joe asked calmly.

"You're thinking it," Barry whispered brokenly, his back still turned.

"Bar," Joe said sadly.

"No, Joe," Barry gritted, still facing his lab equipment, "If you don't want to believe me, fine, but then just get out of my lab. Both of you. Let me run my tests alone then."

* * *

Barry didn't come home until later that night. Joe had tried to get him to leave the precinct several times over the course of the day, but Barry refused. Joe had never seen him this way, this worked up and angry. He was determined to prove to them that what he had seen was real, and no amount of talking or imploring on Joe's part was going to stop him.

Barry was silent as he entered the house. Joe sat up straight when he walked in. He half expected Barry to go into another rant about what he had seen, but he didn't. Barry didn't even look at Joe. It told Joe all he needed to know.

Barry hadn't found anything to prove he was right.

To Joe's chagrin, Barry instantly started heading for the stairs as soon as he entered the house.

"Barry," Joe said gently to stop him, "Wait a minute."

Barry ignored him and started taking the first few steps up the stairs.

"We need to talk about this, Bar," Joe said a little louder now, as he stood up from his chair.

Barry paused for a moment on the stairs, not turning around.

"There's nothing to talk about," he said brokenly, "You don't believe me. You _never_ believe me."

The words were like a punch to Joe's gut, his mind instantly flashing back to the many conversations like this he had had with Barry over the years.

"Barry, please," Joe begged.

"Goodnight, Joe," Barry said quietly before climbing the rest of the stairs.

Joe sighed and sank back down into his chair, putting his face in his hands. This whole thing was a real mess. He didn't fully understand what was going on with Barry. This was more than just grief. Joe knew that now. He just didn't understand what it _was_ then.

* * *

Barry's ears were ringing again as he entered his room. He glared around the small room, hating it. Come to think of it, he hated this entire _house_ for what it was doing to him, even though deep down, he knew it wasn't the house. It was him. The problem lied in him.

Maybe he _was_ losing his mind. Barry didn't think so now, though. There was too much to suggest otherwise. If it was all just in his head, then how could they explain the bruises? Or the clocks? Or everything else that was moving around in the house?

No, there was too much tangible evidence for it to just be in his head. A part of him wanted to go back downstairs and explain it to Joe, to tell him _everything_ that he had been experiencing lately. Maybe if he just showed Joe one of the _hand-shaped_ bruises on his body then Joe would believe him.

He was afraid, though. Afraid that Joe would _still_ dismiss everything, that he would find some bullshit, logical excuse to explain it all. Barry was too exhausted and upset to explain it to him right now. He felt like he hadn't slept in _days_. Really, he hadn't. He had only been getting a couple hours of sleep every night this week, and his body was aching for rest.

Barry groaned and clawed at his ears. He didn't think he'd ever be able to sleep with the way they were ringing. He had been doing his best to ignore it, to ignore _everything._

But maybe it was time to stop ignoring it. Denying everything that was happening didn't stop it from happening. It just made him blind. He couldn't ignore it any longer.

With that thought, Barry had an idea. He rushed to the bathroom and started the water in the tub, undressing quickly as he went. Once the tub was full, he sank down into the warm water with a sigh. Well, if this didn't work, at least he will have enjoyed a nice bath before bed to help him sleep.

Barry looked around the bathroom once, making sure it was empty first and that… _she_ wasn't there. Once he was assured that he was alone, Barry took a deep breath and closed his eyes before sliding down in the tub, submerging his head beneath the water. Barry could hold his breath for an inhuman amount of time. He had an impressive lung capacity. It was sort of necessary so that he could maintain the oxygen saturation in his blood when he ran.

Holding his breath, Barry stayed underneath the water, letting his mind clear. He then strained his ears, focusing in on the ringing sound he had been trying so desperately to ignore. Being underwater blocked out all other sound, allowing him to focus solely on the ringing.

At first he didn't hear anything, just the same annoying tone, but the longer he listened, the clearer it became, as did the dull humming sound that he sometimes heard underlying it. Barry tensed slightly when he started to hear it more clearly. It wasn't just a dull sound anymore; it sounded like…voices.

After listening for a few minutes, Barry could finally hear it. He could hear _them_. It was as if he was in a crowded room full of people, all whispering to each other. He couldn't quite make out the words they were saying, though. And then suddenly, all at once, it stopped. The voices hushed and turned into complete silence.

Barry squeezed his eyes shut tighter, trying to hear something. Anything. But he couldn't. All he heard was complete silence. He didn't feel alone, though. He now felt like there was someone there with him, the same presence as before. Still under the water, Barry opened his eyes.

She was there.

She was leaning over him, just above the water.

In shock, Barry sucked in a breath, only to suck in a large mouthful of water. He quickly resurfaced, shooting up into a sitting position, coughing and sputtering as he looked around the room, which was now empty.

He had seen her, though. She had been hovering over him.

Barry's heart was racing as he shakily scrambled to get out of the tub, still coughing with the water in his throat. He quickly grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist. Barry looked over and saw that the mirror was fogged up.

Uh, uh.

He wasn't going to wipe away the fog. He had seen scary movies before. He knew how this went.

Instead, Barry fumbled with the door knob and exited the insidious bathroom. He ran into Joe in the hallway, and Joe paused, taking in his distressed face.

"Are you okay?" he asked in concern.

"Fine," Barry clipped, brushing past him before Joe could see the bruises littering his torso.

He quickly reached the sanctuary of his room and closed the door with a snap. Well, he wouldn't exactly call his room a _sanctuary_ , considering all the shit that had been happening in there, but anything was better than that dreaded bathroom right now.

He should probably tell Joe the truth. He should probably tell him what was really happening. Barry wasn't crazy. He knew he wasn't imagining it now.

He was being haunted.


	7. The Others

**The Others**

* * *

Joe jolted awake as soon as he heard the sound. He gazed blearily at his alarm clock. It was 11:49. He didn't know what the sound was or what had awoken him, but he knew for sure he had heard it.

It had come from downstairs.

Joe quickly climbed out of bed and grabbed his gun. He rushed to open his door and stalked down the hallway to the stairs. Joe quickened his pace once he reached the stairs, rushing down them as fast as he could without making too much noise. When he reached the bottom and rushed into the living room, he quickly flipped the lights on.

A gasp escaped his lips.

The photos were all over the floor again, smashed to pieces this time. Glass was everywhere, strewn about the living room floor. Joe stared at the mess for only a moment before he heard something that made the blood freeze in his veins.

A bloodcurdling scream from upstairs.

…..

The darkness surrounded Barry, completely engulfing him and overwhelming his senses with nothingness. Barry stumbled aimlessly through the black void, trying to find his way home, out of this frigid cold. He had tried running, picking a random direction without any visible destination, but it had gotten him nowhere.

He couldn't really tell if his speed was even working or how fast he was moving. He felt strangely disconnected from his body, and panic welled in his chest as he slowly realized that the longer he spent here, the more that feeling grew. He hoped it was just the dark messing with his head.

His tears felt frozen to his face. He was never going to see his family again. He was never going to see _light_ again. He had run himself into the crushing vacuum of space, into the endless, empty void of the universe. And now he didn't know how to get himself out.

Barry didn't even know if there _was_ a way out of this place. There was nothing here. It was just empty nothingness. He was going to slowly go insane here. If the darkness didn't drive him crazy, then the silence surely would. When he had first gotten here, his watch had provided him with a constant source of noise at first. Originally, the ticking had annoyed him. Now he would give anything to hear it. It had stopped at some point.

The only reason Barry knew he wasn't deaf now was because he could still hear his own heartbeat. It sounded like the loudest sound in the world to him now amongst all the silent nothingness. He felt like the guy from The Telltale Heart, slowing being driven insane by the constant beating sound.

Barry just hoped that the _others_ wouldn't hear it.

It hadn't taken him very long to discover that he wasn't alone here. He could hear them sometimes, always whispering to him in the dark, though he could never understand what they were saying. He didn't know what was worse. The silence. Or the others.

He just prayed they wouldn't find him. He didn't know _how_ , but he somehow knew they meant him harm. It wasn't just the creepiness of the whole thing. Barry knew they wanted to hurt him. They weren't a comfort to him in the darkness.

Their presence wasn't friendly.

When he had first arrived here, Barry had tried to call out for help, yelling at the top of his lungs into the darkness. He didn't do that anymore, though. He didn't want to get _their_ attention.

If he could only _see_ where he was going, Barry might be able to find a way out of here. There was no source of light, though—nothing to show him the way. Barry suddenly had an idea then. His speed force always created lightning when he ran, and with lightning came _light_.

Having light trailing behind him didn't really help him much, though. He needed to see what was in _front_ of him. Barry needed to figure out a way to do that. He needed to find a way to light a path, to see his surroundings.

Barry had never done it before, but there was a first time for everything, right? Barry held up his hand in the darkness, still unable to see it. He clenched his numb fingers into a fist, just so he could feel that it was there. He had been here so long, he was starting to doubt the existence of his own body.

He focused all of his energy on vibrating his hand. He needed to vibrate it fast enough to generate lightning, to create a light to guide his way. He didn't know if he'd have the energy to do it. He hadn't eaten in days, and he felt horribly drained of speed force after jumping dimensions. It worked, though. Once his hand was moving fast enough, Barry saw a small spark of lightning.

He nearly cried in relief. It was the first speck of light he had seen in days. Or had it been weeks? He had lost all sense of time. It felt as if he had been here forever, and he was completely exhausted. He hadn't even slept the entire time he was here. He didn't want to let his guard down. He didn't want _them_ to find him.

The light quickly fizzled out, and Barry did his best not to panic at the loss of his newfound comfort. Barry kept trying, kept vibrating until it came back. Tears sprung to his eyes when the light flickered back to life again. It wasn't very stable, but it was _light_.

Barry looked around him, trying to see something, _anything_ , but there was nothing to see. Just emptiness. The light didn't illuminate anything because there was nothing to see.

And then he turned around.

Barry nearly screamed. One of _them_ was standing there, with his back to him. Barry stared at the poorly-lit figure standing a few feet away from him. It was an old man. He was in only his underwear, which were stained and dirty. He was shivering violently, which didn't surprise Barry. It was always cold here. His own body ached from his constant shivering.

Barry swallowed down the lump of fear in his throat.

"Hello?" he said softly, daring to speak.

The word felt foreign on his tongue. It had been days since he had used his voice. The man slowly turned around to look at him, and Barry had to choke back a scream when he saw his face. The man looked like death itself. His eyes were dark, like small, black beetles, and his face was gaunt and sunken.

The man stared at Barry and then took a clumsy step towards him, looking at the light. Barry stumbled backwards away from the man. In his moment of panic, he stopped focusing on vibrating his hand, and the light when out, engulfing him in darkness again. Barry backed up several paces in the darkness, away from where the man had been.

He froze where he stood, however, when he felt something else touch his arm from the other side of him. Barry yanked his arm away in panic, stumbling away from whatever had touched him.

The others were here.

They had found him. They had seen his light and moved toward him. He had foolishly drawn them right to him.

Only a moment passed before Barry felt another one touch him. He pulled away from the touch, only to have another one touch him from the other side. They were grabbing at him in the dark, cold hands making contact with his skin from all sides. They had found him, and there was nowhere to run now. He was surround by _them_.

Barry let out a wordless shout of panic as he felt more hands touch him. He could feel them all over his body, bruising him with rough hands. Barry started to hyperventilate, a scream rising in his throat.

* * *

Joe took the steps three at a time to get back up the stairs, practically running to Barry's room once he reached the top. He burst into the room and rushed over to the bed where Barry was thrashing violently, as if he were fighting for his life. The screams emitting from Barry pierced through Joe like blades of ice.

"Barry!" Joe yelled, shaking the boy harshly.

He wasn't going to waste time with gentle touches. He needed to wake Barry up right away.

Barry's eyes opened as he let out another panicked scream and shoved Joe's hand away from him, scrambling away from him on the bed.

"It's okay, Bar," Joe said, "It's okay. You're safe."

Joe had a lump in his throat. He couldn't even begin to guess how many times he had been in this very room, in this exact spot, shaking Barry awake from a nightmare. After Barry's mother had died, the boy had suffered from nightmares for years, all throughout his adolescence. And now Barry was going through the same thing after his father's death. Joe didn't want to see Barry go through more years of this torture. It felt like they had only just gotten the nightmares from his mother's death to stop, even though it had been years.

"Joe?" Barry asked, tears streaming down his face.

"It's me, Bar," Joe said quickly, "It's just me. I'm here."

"Turn the lights on," Barry said in a panicked voice, "I need the lights on _now_. I need light."

Joe rushed to the light switch to turn the lights on for Barry. When he turned back around, he looked closer at Barry's tear-stained face. He was white as a ghost, and now that the lights were on, Joe could see how badly Barry was trembling. Or he might have been shivering. It was hard to tell.

"Are you okay?" Joe asked, his voice laced with worry.

"I'm fine," Barry replied shakily, "It was just a nightmare."

"About your dad?" Joe asked sadly.

He was surprised when Barry shook his head.

"N-no," Barry choked, "It was about something else."

"What was it about?" Joe asked in concern, "Do you remember?"

Barry gasped, and a shudder ran through him. He nodded shakily.

"Yeah," he said, his voice cracking, "I remember _everything_."

"What was it, Bar?" Joe asked sadly.

Was it Zoom? The Reverse-Flash? Some other villain or tragedy that Barry had faced? He had seen so many horrible things in his life. It could be any of them.

"I don't want to talk about it," Barry said weakly.

"Please, Bar," Joe said desperately, "Just talk to me. What's going on with you?"

Barry shook his head and wiped the tears from his face.

"I…I can't," he choked, "I'm sorry."

* * *

Barry wanted more than anything to tell Joe the truth, to tell him about everything that was going on, about everything he had _remembered_ , but he couldn't. He knew now that he couldn't.

If he told Joe about what had happened to him when he was missing, Joe would become even more convinced that he was post-traumatic. He would chalk all of Barry's "hallucinations" up to paranoia.

Even now, Barry felt like he was a teenager again, having Joe rush into his room in the middle of the night to rouse him from a nightmare. The only thing missing was the medication bottle.

For years, it had always been an endless fight with Joe. Always forcing Barry to see shrinks. Medicating him for his anxiety. Trying to help him come to terms with his diagnosis of PTSD. Barry couldn't go back to that. He couldn't take it. Those had been some of the hardest years of his life. He couldn't face Joe now and tell him everything, only to have Joe tell him he was crazy and not believe in him again. He couldn't bear the thought of it.

"Barry, you know that you can tell me anything," Joe said sadly.

Barry sighed.

"I wish that were true," he said quietly.

He could tell from the crushed look on Joe's face that his words had really hurt him, but Barry couldn't take them back.

"Barry…"

"I just want to go back to sleep now, Joe," Barry said painfully, "I just need some _sleep_."

Joe nodded sadly at him.

"Okay, Bar," he whispered.

Joe paused again in the doorway, opening and closing his mouth like he wanted to say something. No words came out, though, and after a moment, Joe sighed and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Barry didn't go to sleep, though. How could he after this? He knew it wasn't just a dream.

He had _remembered._


	8. I Only Have Eyes For You

**I know a lot of writers do this, and not everyone listens to them—including me sometimes—but there's a song in this chapter, and you** ** _have_** **to listen to it. You won't get the anywhere near same effect from it if you don't. The song is called "I Only Have Eyes for You" by The Flamingos.** ** _Please_** **look it up and listen to it. It will be worth it. I promise.**

* * *

 **I Only Have Eyes for You**

* * *

Barry rubbed his tired eyes as he sat on his bed, fighting his exhaustion. He couldn't sleep now even if he wanted to, and Barry _didn't_ want to. Not after that.

They had been gaging all this time that something terrible had happened to him in the dark place he had been in, and they had been right. Barry didn't really know what had happened after the others had found him in that black, empty space, but he didn't really care to know. That was all that mattered.

They had found him.

And now it seemed that they had followed him back. They were still here with him. He just couldn't see them. Then again, he never really could. He had only gotten a _glimpse_ of them before his light went out in that dark void. A glimpse was more than enough, though. It was enough for Barry to be afraid.

He still didn't quite know what they _were_. Or maybe he did.

They were the dead.

Barry couldn't be one hundred percent positive about that conclusion, but deep down he knew he was right. The place he had been…it had been a place for the dead. And now they were _here_ with him, in the world of the living. Or at least, one of them was. One of them had found him.

Barry didn't know who she was, or _had been_. It didn't matter. For whatever reason, she was tormenting him. She was with him everywhere he went.

"What do you want from me?" Barry whispered into the empty room.

He didn't know what to do. His powers were useless against a _dead_ person. The Flash couldn't fight a ghost, if that's what she was. He was powerless against her. He just wished he knew what she _wanted_.

* * *

Joe woke up early to clean up the living room before Barry could come down and see it. He didn't think it'd be good for Barry. It would only add to his anxiety if he saw the mess of glass and photo frames all over the floor. He would only become further convinced that someone was breaking into their home.

Joe didn't know what to think of it. It had to be Barry. The fact that Joe had found Barry screaming in his sleep shortly after it had happened couldn't be a coincidence. Barry had to be sleepwalking.

It made perfect sense, actually. Barry hadn't sleepwalked in years. It had stopped right around the time the nightmares had. But now the nightmares were back, and so was the sleepwalking.

Barry had never done anything like _this_ when he sleepwalked in the past, though. It was strange.

When Barry came down the stairs, he didn't say anything to Joe. He didn't even look at him. Joe felt a pain in his heart over the whole thing. He and Barry had always been so close. They had had their bumps in their relationship over the years when Barry was growing up and still struggling through everything, but through it all, he and Barry had always maintained a close father-son connection.

And now Barry couldn't even look at him.

Joe followed Barry into the kitchen and watched him silently as he started making himself breakfast.

"I don't want to talk about it, Joe," Barry said then, knowing what Joe was thinking.

Joe wished he at least knew what _it_ was. Whatever Barry was going through, Joe just wanted to be there for him.

"Barry, I can't help you if you don't talk to me," Joe said desperately.

"There's nothing to talk about," Barry muttered.

As Joe watched Barry put a couple slices of bread in the toaster, he noticed that the watch he had given Barry was no longer on his wrist. Joe felt the sadness in his chest intensify. He felt like he had been punched in the gut.

"Is it _me_?" Joe asked sadly, "Whatever's wrong, Bar, does it…does it have to do with me?"

"No," Barry said quickly, finally looking at him, "No, Joe. It's not you. There's nothing wrong."

"Barry, clearly something is wrong," Joe pressed, "I'm really worried about you."

"You don't have to be," Barry assured him, "I'm fine."

"You know, you've been saying that a lot lately," Joe said, "I don't think you know what the word _fine_ means anymore, Bar."

Barry didn't say anything. He just walked over to the pantry to grab one of his calorie bars.

"Barry?" Joe asked sadly.

Barry sighed heavily.

"Joe, when I'm ready to talk, I will," he said simply, "I'm really sorry that I have you so worried. I promise you that I'm fine, though. I just have a lot on my mind lately."

Joe nodded sadly.

"Okay, Bar."

* * *

Barry looked at his phone when it vibrated. He let out a soft groan when he saw the caller ID. It was Caitlin calling, _again_. She had been calling him all day. Barry wondered if Joe had told her about everything that was going on. He must have, or she wouldn't be calling so much.

Barry knew he should just answer it, but he really didn't feel like talking. He also knew that if Caitlin got him on the phone, she would no doubt ask him to come in for a physical, and _that_ was definitely out of the question right now. He couldn't let her see him like this, not after last night.

Today's new bruises were particularly bad. " _Horrendous"_ might be a better word for it. Barry's entire body was black and blue now after last night. He couldn't let her see the damage. The doctor would probably have an aneurism just looking at him.

The bruises didn't just _look_ awful, though. Barry's entire body felt sore. It was as if what happened in his dream had really happened last night. All the handprint-shaped bruises made a lot more sense now. The bruises were from _them_ , from their hands on him. It made Barry sick just to think about it. To think about all those hands touching him while he was sleeping. He was being assaulted every night while he slept, and the thought of it left a sour taste in Barry's mouth.

It was just another reason for him to never fall asleep again. Although, he really needed it. The sleep deprivation he was suffering from had now become unbearable. He had to fight just to keep his eyes open at all times, and Barry could feel his mind unraveling at the seams, a problem that stemmed from more things than just sleep deprivation.

Barry really didn't want to go home. He didn't want to face Joe, and he especially didn't want to face _her._ He felt safer at work where everything still felt normal. He probably should have told Joe that he was going to be working late, though. Joe was probably wondering where Barry was by now.

All the day shifters had left a while ago, and the night shift had come in to take their place. Barry didn't really know anyone on the night shift too well. It wasn't that Barry never worked at night—he did all the time—but it was because they never stayed in the precinct. They all went out on patrol and left the precinct empty for the most part. All 911 calls were transferred to Brenda, the night dispatcher at precinct four.

And this left Barry alone in the dimly lit precinct at night. He hated being alone these days, but really he mostly only had that feeling at home, where everything was happening. Besides, Barry was alone in his lab most of the time anyways. As he worked on his cases, it was easy to pretend that everyone else was still downstairs.

Barry stood up from his desk with a tired sigh and walked out of his lab. He couldn't get drunk, but being as tired as he was right now, it almost felt like he was. Barry stumbled slightly when he reached the bottom of the precinct stairs. He walked tiredly over to Officer Liddell's desk and dropped off the ballistics report he had just finished.

He was walking through the dark ground floor of the precinct, thinking he should probably head home soon, when he suddenly stopped in his tracks, straining his ears to listen. There was music playing. It was quiet, but he could hear it.

The song sounded really old, but it was strangely familiar to him. Barry walked back towards the stairs and paused at the bottom. The music was coming from upstairs, from his lab. After taking a few shaky steps up the stairs, Barry started to hear the song more clearly, and it felt like he had been punched in the gut.

He knew this song.

 _…_ _Are the stars, out tonight?_

 _I don't know if it's cloudy or bright._

 _I only have eyes, for you…_

Tears sprang to Barry's eyes as he slowly climbed the stairs, each step harder to take than the last. A lump formed in his throat as he listened to the familiar words.

 _…_ _The moon may be high_

 _But I can't see a thing, in the sky_

 _I only have eyes, for you…_

Barry shakily put a hand on the door to his lab. He couldn't open it. A single tear escaped his eye as he stood in front of the door. Struggling to take a breath, Barry finally pushed it open. His lab was still empty, just the way he had left it. The only thing that was different was that the small radio he kept on top of his centrifuge in the corner was now on. Barry felt like his legs were going to give out from under him as he listened to the song. He just wanted to crumble and break down. He couldn't take this. This was too much for him. Not this song…

 _…_ _I don't know if, we're in a garden_

 _Or on the crowded, avenue_

 _You are here_

 _And so am I_

 _Maybe millions of people, go by_

 _But they all disappear, from view_

 _And I only have eyes, for you…_

* * *

Joe knew Barry was still at the precinct when he last saw him, but he would have expected him to be back by now. He had tried calling Barry several times, but unsurprisingly, Barry didn't answer. He had already called STAR Labs and confirmed that Barry wasn't out on Flash duty tonight. Cisco had traced Barry's cellphone for him and confirmed that Barry was still at the precinct. He must have decided to work late.

Joe decided to let it go at first, but now this was getting ridiculous. It was past midnight! He tried calling Barry one more time, but like all the times before, the call had gone to voicemail.

Joe wasn't sure if this was the best decision—he was trying to give Barry some space—but after it got to be past midnight, Joe decided to go to the precinct, himself.

If Barry wasn't going to pick up his phone, Joe was just going to have to go to him in person.

Joe pulled into the empty precinct parking lot. There were no cars there. Everyone was probably either out on emergency calls or on patrol. Joe got out of the car and quickly entered the dark precinct.

The precinct was dead silent when he entered it, but Joe saw a light on upstairs and figured Barry was probably still working in his lab. He had an uneasy feeling as he climbed the stairs. Something just didn't feel right. It was too quiet. He began to doubt whether Barry was even here.

When he walked through the open doorway to the lab, however, he found Barry working silently at his desk. At least, that's what it looked like at first. When Joe stepped closer to him, he got the sense that something was very wrong. Barry had his back to him, and as Joe started to cross the room towards him, he saw that Barry was staring at some old case report. Maybe a cold case? The file definitely looked old.

"Barry?" Joe asked quietly.

Barry didn't turn around. He didn't respond in the slightest, just continued staring at the report on his desk.

"Barry, are you okay?" Joe asked, stepping closer to him.

He came to a stop a few feet away from Barry, who still didn't turn around. Joe was really starting to worry, but he was slightly relieved then when Barry spoke.

"It's my mother."

Joe stared at Barry's back.

"What?" he asked, confused.

"The thing that's been trying to contact me," Barry said quietly, finally turning his chair to look at Joe.

He had tears running down his face.

"It's my mother," Barry whispered.

Joe looked at him in confusion.

"What are you talking about, Bar?"

Barry shook his head and wiped a tear from his face, looking back down at his desk, back at the old case report he had been staring at.

"She died at 11:52 PM," he muttered, so quietly that Joe wasn't quite sure if he had heard him right.

"Bar?" he asked, taking another step toward Barry.

That's when he realized how badly Barry was trembling.

"This whole time," Barry said quietly, "I've been thinking that whatever it is, it was just trying to torment me, but now I know; It's…it's been my mother this entire time."

"Hold on a second, Barry," Joe said in confusion, "What are you talking about?"

"It was her song, Joe," Barry said with a small sob, "My mom's song…it was playing. She's trying to get through to me. She was trying to tell me that it was her. That it's _been_ her…this entire time."

"Barry…" Joe said, looking at his foster son with wide eyes, "You're not making sense. You're scaring me."

Barry let out a shaky sigh and wiped a few tears from his face.

"I haven't been entirely honest with you, Joe," he said, looking at Joe with watery eyes, "Something _has_ been going on with me. I…I just didn't know how to tell you about it."

"What's going on, Bar?" Joe asked fearfully.

Barry shook his head and wiped his face again, hesitating to answer. Finally, he spoke, though.

"Ever since I got back from that place…" he started, his voice wavering, "Something's been following me, _messing_ with me. At least, that's what I thought it was doing. I was wrong, though. She was just trying to get through to me."

"Who?" Joe asked, not fully understanding.

"My mother," Barry said quietly, "She's the woman I saw in our house the other day, the one I've _been_ seeing."

Joe straightened up a little then, starting to understand.

"Oh, Bar," he said sadly, not sure how to respond, "Barry, your mother…she's gone. You know that."

"It was her," Barry insisted, tears in his eyes, "All the things happening at home…it's been her this entire time."

Joe shook his head sadly at him, his heart breaking. Barry was more lost right now that he had thought.

"Barry…" he said softly.

"The clocks in the house have all been stopping at _this_ time, Joe," Barry said, pointing at the report, "Things moving around…the pictures…You can't deny it."

Joe sighed heavily.

"Please, believe me, Joe," Barry said quietly, a few tears running silently down his face.

Joe felt his heart break just looking at Barry.

"I do," Joe whispered, "I believe you, Bar."

* * *

Joe knew now why Barry seemed so tired all the time; He was refusing to sleep. When he took Barry home from the precinct, it had been a challenge to calm Barry down and convince him to go to bed. Joe had managed it, though.

As soon as Joe got him in bed, he quickly descended the stairs and pulled out his phone once he was in the living room.

"Caitlin," he said seriously as soon as she picked up, "I'm sorry, I know it's late, but we have a problem with Barry. I…I think his mind's finally cracked."

Joe let out a shaky sigh before continuing.

"I think Barry's having a mental breakdown."


	9. I Wasn't Alone

**I Wasn't Alone**

* * *

Barry waited a while before turning the light on. He didn't want Joe to know that he wasn't sleeping like Joe had insisted. He knew Joe was right and that he needed to sleep, but he _couldn't_ sleep, not with his mind reeling with his new revelation.

It all made sense now. His mother was trying to communicate with him.

Why, though?

To _warn_ him?

Maybe she was trying to protect him. She was trying to protect him from the others. He knew the bruises couldn't be from her. She wouldn't do that to him. She wouldn't hurt him.

But _they_ would.

They were trying to get to him. He didn't know what they wanted, but it was clear that they were the ones plaguing his dreams every night when he slept. They were the ones hurting him, not her. She was just trying to communicate.

"I hear you, mom," Barry whispered softly to the air, "I'm listening. What are you trying to tell me?"

Nothing happened, though. Barry looked around his dimly lit bedroom, looking for anything out of the ordinary, but there was nothing.

Barry sighed and sat on his bed, rubbing his tired eyes. He looked longingly at the soft pillow on his bed. Before he knew it, Barry was laying down, giving up the fight to stay awake. He fell into an uneasy sleep without meaning to, the lights in the room still on.

* * *

Joe paced nervously back and forth in the living room, which was just starting to become illuminated by the early morning light.

This wasn't going to be easy; Joe knew that. But hopefully they'd be able to find a way to help Barry. He just wanted Barry back. He wanted Barry back to the way he had been before.

Joe jumped when there was a gentle knock on the door. He quickly rushed to it and wrenched it open.

"How is he?" Caitlin asked sadly when the door flew open.

Joe sighed and rubbed his tired eyes. He had been up all night.

"Sleeping," he answered, "I just checked on him an hour ago. He was asleep, but…he seemed restless."

Caitlin nodded and stepped further through the doorway. Joe closed the door behind her.

"So, he thinks his mother is trying to communicate with him?" Caitlin asked quietly as she sat down on the couch in the living room.

Joe nodded sadly as he also took a seat.

"I…I don't know what to say to him," he said tiredly, "I told him I believe him."

Caitlin's eyes widened.

"Why would you do that?" she asked seriously.

"Because I know Barry," Joe said sadly, "If he thinks we don't believe him, he's not going to talk to us. He won't communicate."

"I know, but…we also don't want to encourage the delusion," Caitlin said.

"I know," Joe sighed, "I…I just couldn't bear the thought of telling him that I don't believe him. He's already been so distant with me. If I hadn't told him I believed him, I would have just pushed him further away."

Caitlin sighed.

She looked like she was about to say something else, but just then, Barry appeared, slowly and tiredly making his way down the stairs. Joe and Caitlin both stared at him.

"Caitlin," he said in surprise when his eyes landed on the doctor sitting in their living room, "What are you doing here?"

"Joe told me what's going on," Caitlin said awkwardly.

Barry gave her an uneasy look.

"I…I know it's a little hard to believe," he said quietly, "But it's true. It's my mother."

Caitlin nodded slowly, giving Barry a sad look.

"Barry, when did this start?" she asked seriously.

Barry sighed and sat down by them in the armchair next to the couch.

"Right after I got back," he said quietly, "From when I was missing."

Joe and Caitlin exchanged a look, both thinking the same thing. Whatever had happened to Barry there had clearly triggered it. Whatever had happened to him must have been so traumatic, it caused his mind to snap.

"I…" Barry said quietly, swallowing before continuing, "I remember what happened to me there now."

Joe's eyes widened. Barry hadn't told him _that_ part.

"What happened?" Joe asked urgently, "What did you remember?"

Barry looked at Joe with a haunted expression on his face that Joe didn't think he'd ever forget.

"Them," Barry whispered, "I remembered _them_ , the others that were there."

Caitlin and Joe both exchanged a confused look.

"The others?" Caitlin asked quietly.

"Bar," Joe said seriously, "You said there was nothing but darkness there. You said you were alone."

Barry nodded and took a deep breath. Joe and Caitlin were surprised to see tears forming in his eyes.

"They were in the dark," Barry said quietly, "They were in the dark with me. I wasn't alone."

"And who are _they_ exactly?" Joe asked, his mouth dry.

Barry shook his head, a humorless smile on his face, as if he thought what he was about to say was ridiculous.

"The dead."

Barry gave Joe and Caitlin an uneasy look, measuring their reactions. Joe swallowed and took a deep breath.

"Barry…" he said quietly.

"At least that's what I think they were," Barry said quickly, "I don't really know for sure."

"So you think that's what's been causing all these strange things to happen?" Caitlin asked him, "You think _they_ are doing it?"

Barry nodded.

"I'm sure of it," he said confidently.

Joe and Caitlin both exchanged another look.

"Okay, Barry," Caitlin said gently, "We're going to get to the bottom of this. I promise. For now though, do you think you could let me look you over? Give you a physical?"

Barry blanched slightly.

"I…I don't know," he said awkwardly, glancing at Joe, "Does it have to be right now?"

"Bar, I know about the bruises," Joe said gently.

Barry's eyes widened, and he looked back and forth between Caitlin and Joe.

"You _told_ him?" Barry asked, a hint of betrayal in his voice.

"He was worried about you," Caitlin said apologetically, "So, yes, I told him."

Barry sighed and looked down at his lap.

"I still don't really want to do it right now," he said quietly.

"Why?" Joe asked in confusion.

"I…I just don't."

Joe and Caitlin looked at each other, communicating silently. They both knew they probably shouldn't push Barry right now, so they let it go.

"What else has been happening, Barry?" Caitlin asked gently, "Can you tell me about what you've been experiencing?"

Barry looked uncomfortable, but he nodded.

"I…I've seen her a couple times," he started slowly, "A few times in my bedroom, and once in the bathroom. There have been other times, though, when I didn't see her, but I could sense her presence. I…I think I heard her a few times. She was whispering to me, but I don't know what she's trying to tell me. I heard her, though. And…and I heard the others. I hear them sometimes, if I listen hard enough."

Joe and the doctor both exchanged an uneasy look. Barry was hearing _voices_. This was so much worse than they thought. The look didn't go unnoticed by Barry, though, and his eyes widened suddenly as he looked at the two of them.

"You…you _do_ believe me," he said slowly, "Don't you?"

Joe gave Barry a sad look.

"Bar…"

"You don't," Barry said quietly, tears of betrayal forming in his eyes, "You don't believe me."

"Barry, we just want to help you," Caitlin said sadly.

"I'm not crazy!" Barry said forcefully, his voice rising slightly, "This is happening! This is really happening to me!"

"Barry," Joe said, "We don't think you're crazy. You're just confused. We would never think—"

"I'm not imagining this, Joe!" Barry shouted, standing up from his seat, "If this is all in my head, then how do you explain the photos on the floor?!"

"Barry," Caitlin said calmly, looking up at him from her seat, "We have a theory. Joe mentioned to me that you used to sleepwalk, and—"

" _Sleepwalking_?!" Barry shouted, "You think _I've_ been doing all of this?! You think I've been _sleepwalking_?!"

"Barry," Joe said sadly, "Just hear us out."

Barry didn't calm down, though, and he continued to shout.

"And I supposed you think I did _this_ to myself, too?!" he yelled, yanking up his sleeve.

Joe and Caitlin both gasped, both of them rising from their seats in alarm. Caitlin quickly grabbed Barry's arm and looked closer at it. Dark handprint-shaped bruises littered Barry's skin, trailing all the way up his arm, all of different ages and consisting of different colors.

"Oh, my God," Caitlin whispered, tears forming in her eyes.

Joe thought he was going to be sick. He hadn't thought Barry could possibly be hurting himself this bad.

Barry's expression warped into a look of shock as he read their faces.

"You…" he said quietly, "You _do_ think I'm doing it to myself, _don't you_?"

Joe gave Barry a desperate look.

"We know you would never consciously hurt yourself, Bar," he said painfully, his stomach still churning as he looked at the bruises.

Barry yanked his arm away from Caitlin and pushed the sleeve back down.

"You think I'm that sick that I would hurt myself in my _sleep_?!" Barry said incredulously.

"Barry," Joe said desperately.

Barry shook his head furiously and stormed towards the door.

"Where are you going, Barry?" Caitlin asked worriedly.

"To find someone who _will_ believe me," Barry gritted out before wrenching the door open.

Joe rushed over to stop him, but it was too late. Barry flashed away.

Joe looked back at Caitlin with tears welling in his eyes.

"It's so much worse than I thought," he said weakly, his voice cracking slightly.

"It's okay, Joe," Caitlin reassured him, "We'll find a way to fix this. We'll get through to him."

"What if we _can't,_ though?" Joe asked painfully, "I can't lose him, Caitlin."

"We're not losing him," Caitlin assured him, "Everything's going to be okay."

Joe sighed and wiped a tear from his face.

"He's never going to forgive me," he said quietly.

* * *

"Please tell me you believe me," Barry begged.

Cisco hadn't said much as Barry explained everything to him. Even now, he was just sitting in his chair behind the desk in the cortex, staring at Barry.

"I…" he said slowly, "I believe you, Barry."

"Do you mean that?" Barry asked hopefully, tears in his eyes, "I need to know that you really mean that, Cisco, because right now, nobody else does, and I really need just _one_ person who believes me, who doesn't think I'm crazy."

Cisco shook his head.

"I don't think you're crazy, Barry," he said firmly, "I know what you're saying is true."

Cisco sighed and leaned forward in his chair.

"When I vibed you," he said seriously, "I saw it for myself. I thought I was just being silly at first, but after hearing all of this, I know that I was right. What I felt when I vibed you really _was_ death. I believe you, Barry."

Barry felt like he could cry, he was so relieved. That's when he realized that he was _already_ crying. Tears were already rolling down his face. Barry brushed them away quickly and gave Cisco a watery smile.

"Thank you, Cisco," he choked, his heart swelling, "You have no idea what it means to me to hear you say that."

"Of course I believe you," Cisco said seriously, "I have no reason _not_ to."

"Tell that to Joe and Caitlin," Barry said bitterly, "They think I'm crazy."

"Well, it _is_ a bit out there, Barry," Cisco said gently, "I know you're telling the truth because I saw it myself. Caitlin and Joe didn't."

"It's easier for them to just believe that I'm losing it," Barry said quietly, thinking about it, "They think I'm traumatized. Or grieving my dad's death. They think it's all in my head."

"Well, I know that it's not," Cisco assured him, "I'm going to help you figure it out, man."

Barry gave him a sad smile.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"There's one thing that I'm a bit skeptical about, though," Cisco admitted cautiously.

Barry tensed. Cisco let out a heavy sigh before continuing.

"I know you want it to be true, but…are you sure it's your mom, Barry?"

Barry nodded firmly.

"Yes," he said surely, "It has to be. The song on the radio…the time that she died…Yes, it's my mother, Cisco."

Cisco nodded slowly.

"Okay," he said, "If you're sure."

"I am," Barry said firmly.

Cisco nodded again.

"Alright then," he said, "I'm going to help you get to the bottom of this, man. I'm going to help you figure out what she's trying to tell you."

Barry smiled at him.

"Thank you, Cisco."


	10. Never Talk to the Dead

**Never Talk to the Dead**

* * *

Barry hated the worried looks they both gave him when he walked through the front door. It had been a few days since he had spoken to either of them. Joe had gotten to Iris before he could, and now she thought he was just as crazy as Joe did.

At least they seemed to have given up now on trying to talk to him about it. Barry was grateful for that. He was tired of trying to convince them, tired of the sad, sympathetic looks they gave him when he told them it was his mother who was trying to communicate with him.

"I made lasagna, Barry," Iris said quietly from where she was sitting with her father in the dining room, "Your favorite."

Barry didn't say anything. He ignored her and made to climb the stairs, not joining them for dinner. He didn't want to sit there with them and try to eat while they exchanged worried looks that they thought he didn't notice. He'd rather go to bed hungry.

It had been a few days since that night at the precinct when his mother had contacted him. He hadn't seen anything strange since. He had had the usual nightmares and was still sleeping terribly, but his mother hadn't tried to reach out to him again. Maybe contacting him the other night had drained her of all her energy. Maybe it would be a while before she would try to communicate with him again. Barry had tried to speak to her, but the effort to communicate seemed to be one-sided now, something that had him feeling particularly low over the past couple days.

Barry was only in the sanctuary of his room for a few minutes before there was a gentle knock on his door.

"Go away," Barry said to whoever it was.

He didn't want to have another one of these conversations with them.

"Barry, _please_ ," Iris's voice came through the door.

Barry sighed and opened the door.

"What?" he asked stiffly.

Iris's face crumpled into an expression of hurt.

"Please, just talk to me," she begged.

"Why? So you can analyze me some more?" he asked bitterly, "So you can tell me I'm crazy?"

"Barry," she said sadly.

"No, Iris," Barry said angrily, "I can't stand to have this conversation with you again. You were supposed to be the one person who _always_ believed in me, no matter what. I don't understand why Cisco is the only one who believes me about this. After all the strange things we've seen these past two years, why is everyone questioning _this_?!"

"Because, Barry," Iris said sadly, "This isn't some metahuman that you're talking about. Yes, we've seen some strange things, but…ghosts?"

"We already know that other worlds exist," Barry said stubbornly, "Why not this?"

"Barry," Iris said quietly, "Don't you think the timing of it is a little…strange?"

Barry gave her a confused look.

"What do you mean, _the timing of it_?" he asked, not understanding.

Iris let out a heavy sigh.

"Barry, you just lost your dad," she said painfully, "And it was just your mom's anniversary. You've had a lot to cope with lately, and it makes sense that you would want this to be true, to know that the ones we lose are never really gone."

"That's not what this is about," Barry said forcefully, "This isn't _grief,_ Iris."

Iris gave him a pained look, and Barry knew she didn't believe him. She still thought this was about his parents.

"Iris, everything strange that's been happening has been happening since I got back from the Void," he said in frustration.

Iris gave him a confused look.

"The Void?" she asked.

Barry sighed.

"That's what Cisco's been calling it now," he said dismissively, "Whatever it's called, it doesn't matter. Everything started when I accidentally went there."

"Barry, I know whatever you went through there was…terrifying," Iris said gently, "We all understand why you're so shaken up by the whole thing. It's understandable."

Barry let out an angry sigh of frustration. She wasn't listening to him.

"Iris, nothing I say is going to convince you, is it?"

"Barry…" she said sadly, and he could plainly see the anguish in her eyes.

This was hurting her, too.

"I'm done talking about this," Barry said defeatedly.

"You don't have to talk," Iris said quickly, "Just listen. Just hear me out, Barry."

"The same way you've been listening to _me_?" Barry asked angrily, "I don't want to hear it, Iris. I don't want to hear any more about your stupid grief theories or how crazy and delusional you guys think I am."

Before Iris could say another word, Barry closed the door in her face with a snap.

"Barry," she said quietly through the door, but Barry didn't reply.

He stormed angrily over to his bed and sat down on it. A couple seconds later he heard Iris sigh and walk away.

Barry couldn't believe how little faith his own family had in him. He felt like they hadn't fully even given him a _chance_ to explain. Sure, Joe had tricked and told him that he believed him so that Barry would open up to them, but they hadn't really _listened_ to him, not fully.

Barry wished none of this was happening to him, but there was also a small part of him that _didn't_ want it to stop. This wasn't a curse. It was a gift in disguise. He had been given the gift of a chance to talk to his mother again. Not some past version of her or some imitation of her that the speed force had conjured up, but his _actual_ mother, in the present. Barry wasn't going to return that gift; he wasn't going to pass up this opportunity.

He just wished his mother would reach out again already.

Barry was struck by a sudden thought then. Maybe _he_ needed to reach out. Maybe _he_ wasn't doing enough to try to communicate from his side.

After a few moments of thought, Barry suddenly stood up from his bed. With urgency, he crossed his bedroom and made his way over to the closet. He opened the door quickly, but then he hesitated.

It was dark in the closet.

Barry pushed his fear aside. This was his mother. He didn't need to feel afraid. He wasn't afraid of _her,_ though; he was afraid of the others. He didn't let that stop him from entering the small closet, though. He stepped boldly into it, his breath catching painfully in his chest.

The closet wasn't icy cold, though. He didn't sense any presence there as he stooped down and started digging through the boxes he kept there. It took him a while, but he finally found it.

The record.

Barry smiled sadly at it for a moment before standing back up and moving back into his room, straight to his old record player. He hadn't played the record in years, and he felt somewhat guilty about that. It had been his mom's favorite.

He carefully set the large disk on the turntable and turned the player on. The record started to spin silently, and Barry slowly lowered the needle down to it. His heart clenched when the song started to emit from his dad's old player.

The memories it stirred brought tears to his eyes. He could picture his mother now, humming this song softly as she cooked in the kitchen, sitting in the living room at night, enjoying a glass of wine as she let the record play.

Barry shook off the sadness he felt over hearing his mother's song. He turned around, away from the record player, and looked around the room, straining his ears, which were ringing now. He took that as a good sign.

"I'm listening, mom," he said quietly, "What do you want to tell me?"

Nothing happened. The room remained empty and quiet, the old song the only sound filling the space.

"Please," Barry begged, "Please, mom, _talk_ to me. Do something. Anything. Show me that you're still here with me."

And then he saw it.

Barry rushed over to the bookshelf and stared at the snow globe he had sitting there, the one that had belonged to his mother. The small snow-like specks of confetti inside the glass were now raining down on the scene inside.

A small laugh that was really more of a sob escaped Barry's lips. She had responded. She had heard him and responded. Barry picked up the small snow globe and clutched it to his chest.

Just then, there was a gentle knock on his door. Barry rushed over to his record player and quickly silenced the music he was playing. Joe and Iris both knew it was his mother's song, and he didn't exactly want them to hear him playing it. They had probably already heard, though.

"Go _away_ , Iris," Barry said irritably.

She had interrupted his moment with his mother for nothing. He didn't know why Iris had even bothered to come back. He wasn't going to talk to her again. It wasn't Iris's voice that responded, though.

"Barry," a male voice said, "It's me. Wally."

Barry raised his eyebrows in surprise. Wally must have just come home. Barry sighed and opened the door. Just from the way Wally was looking at him when his face came into view, Barry could tell that Joe and Iris had filled him in on everything that was going on.

"Joe and Iris just finish telling you that I'm losing my marbles?" Barry asked bitterly.

Wally sighed.

"I believe you, Barry," he said quietly.

Barry blinked at him in surprise.

"You…you do?" he whispered.

Wally nodded.

"Can I come in?" he asked quietly, glancing back down the hall behind him, no doubt making sure Joe and Iris weren't there to overhear.

Barry nodded. He quickly ushered Wally inside his room and closed the door.

"Why?" Barry asked him as soon as the door was closed.

Wally gave him a confused look.

"Why do you believe me?" Barry elaborated.

Wally was last person who Barry had expected to believe him. He didn't understand.

"Last week," Wally said, "When I found you thrashing in your sleep, before I could get you to wake up, I…I saw something."

Barry stared at him.

"What did you see?" he asked quietly.

"A person," Wally whispered, "There was someone else in the room. They were standing over there, in the dark."

Wally pointed towards the far corner of the room, to the exact same place where Barry had seen the figure, himself.

"I thought I had imagined it," Wally said quietly, "But now, after hearing about everything you've been experiencing, I know that it was really there."

"Did you tell your dad and Iris what you saw?" Barry asked hopefully, "Did you tell them you believe me?"

Wally gave him an uneasy look and nodded.

"I did," he said, "And then we had a pretty big fight about it. They didn't want me to come talk to you. They didn't want me to encourage you."

"Figures," Barry said bitterly.

Joe, Iris, and Caitlin had fought with Cisco about it, too, but thankfully Cisco had stood by Barry's side. He had told them about his vibe, about how the place Barry had been in felt like death, but it wasn't enough to convince them. Barry didn't understand. How could they not believe in both him _and_ Cisco?! And now Wally.

They thought Cisco and Wally were just mistaken. Barry, on the other hand, they thought was losing it.

"So, you think it's your mom?" Wally asked quietly, changing the subject off Joe and Iris.

Barry nodded.

"She's trying to communicate with me," he said surely.

He looked down and realized he was still holding the snow globe in his hands. When he looked back up, Wally was giving him an uneasy look.

"You…you haven't tried to communicate _back_ , have you?" he asked nervously.

Barry gave him a confused expression. Why was Wally suddenly so nervous?

"Of course I have," Barry answered, "She's my mom."

Wally's expression became more than nervous then. It quickly became an expression of fear.

"Barry, haven't you ever seen any scary movie _ever_?" Wally asked incredulously, "You…you should never talk to the dead."

Barry stared at him.

"Why?" he asked.

Wally gave him another uneasy look.

"Because when you try to communicate," he said nervously, "You invite them in."

"Well, that's what I'm trying to do," Barry said openly, "I _want_ to talk to my mother, Wally."

Wally shook his head sadly at him.

"Barry, the dead are not meant to talk to the living," he said quietly, "It's dangerous."

"How do _you_ know that?" Barry asked stubbornly.

Wally sighed.

"My mom was always really into this stuff," he told him, "Spirits, ghosts, psychics. She knew quite a bit about all of it."

"I didn't know that," Barry said in surprise.

Then again, he didn't really know much about Francine at all. Wally never really talked about her. Barry didn't blame him for it. Since his dad had died, Barry hadn't been talking about _him_ much either.

Wally nodded.

"I'm no expert, but I've learned quite a bit about it over the years," he said simply, "And trust me, Barry. This isn't something that you want to mess with. You don't want to get yourself in deeper than you already are."

"So what am I supposed to do?" Barry asked in frustration, "Ignore my _mother_?"

Wally let out a heavy sigh.

"Yes," he said quietly, "You don't want to pay attention to the dead. The more you notice them, the more they're going to notice _you_."

Barry sighed.

"I can't just ignore my mother, Wally," he said quietly.

Wally gave him a serious look.

"Even if it's _hurting_ you?" he asked quietly, "My dad and Iris told me about the bruises, Barry."

"Those aren't from her," Barry said quickly, "They're from the others."

"Exactly," Wally said in a scared voice, "Barry, maybe when you try to reach out to her, it's not only your mother that you're reaching out to. When you talk to _one_ of the dead they _all_ hear you. You're inviting them in."

Barry shook his head vehemently.

"No," he said firmly, "She's protecting me from them. I think…I think she's been trying to _warn_ me."

Wally gave Barry a sad look.

"I hope you're right," he said quietly.

Wally moved towards the door then.

"I should go before my dad or Iris catch me in here," he said, "I just wanted you to know that I believe you."

Barry gave Wally a sad smile.

"Thank you, Wally."

Wally nodded and then left the room, closing the door behind him. Barry sighed and looked down at the snow globe in his hands.

"I love you, mom," he whispered.

* * *

Barry waited until everyone was asleep before he emerged from his room and made his way downstairs. He couldn't help but glance at the clock in the living room once he was down there, but he was surprised to find that it wasn't there. Joe must have taken it down, not wanting Barry to obsess over it. Barry glared at the blank expanse of wall for a moment before he looked around the rest of the room.

The photos were gone, too.

There were no photos of Barry anywhere in the house now. Barry wondered where Joe had put them. He must have hidden them in the same place he hid all the clocks.

Barry sighed and made his way to the kitchen. He hadn't eaten dinner, and he couldn't ignore the hunger anymore. He actually hadn't been eating much lately at all, and he was trying to make an effort to change that. Barry couldn't bring himself to heat up a plate of the lasagna Iris had made for them. He felt too guilty.

Instead, Barry went over to the pantry to grab a calorie bar. He was going to turn on the pantry light, but he decided not to. Despite what Wally had said, Barry couldn't help it. He had to _try._ She was his mother after all. Barry stepped into the dark space and strained his eyes to see something, _anything_. He couldn't stop his heart from racing. It felt like he was in that dark place again. Barry felt a bit silly, being afraid of the dark, but at least he knew now that he had a good reason to be. He couldn't help but think of what his mother had said to him the night she had died.

 _You're not afraid of the dark, Barry. You're afraid of being_ alone _in the dark. But that fear goes away when you realize something._

 _You're never really alone._

They had been her last words to him.

And now Barry _knew_ that he wasn't alone. She was there, watching over him. She was still with him now.

"Mom?" he whispered quietly into the darkness.

Barry's ears started to ring again, and he strained to listen closer, hoping to hear her and not _them_ , but he couldn't hear anything, not even the dull murmur of whispering. Sometimes he heard it, and sometimes he didn't. He knew she was there, though.

Barry spent nearly ten full minutes standing in the pantry, trying to hear her, but eventually the ringing faded and left him in silence. Barry sighed and grabbed a calorie bar before walking out of the pantry. He walked through the kitchen, turning the kitchen lights off as he left. It was only a second later, though, that he halted in his tracks when he heard a whisper from behind him.

" _Beautiful boy_."

Barry spun around, heart racing. He rushed back into the kitchen and his heart nearly stopped when he saw the figure standing there, just behind the counter.

"Mom," he whispered, his throat dry.

He knew he didn't have to be scared, but the eeriness of it still sent a chill down his spine. Barry couldn't see her face in the dark, but he could see the outline of a woman standing there, not saying anything now.

Barry quickly moved to the wall and flicked on the light switch, desperately wanting to see his mother's face. He looked back to see her, but she was gone now.

"No!" he said in anguish, "No, no, no."

He quickly flicked the light back off, but there was still no one there now.

"Please," he begged, "Mom, please. Please come back."

Barry felt a hand touch his shoulder then, and his heart nearly stopped. He spun around on the spot. It wasn't his mother behind him, though.

"Bar," Joe said sadly, "What are you doing?"

Joe had clearly heard Barry calling out to his mother just now. Barry could see that plainly written on his face.

"She was here," Barry sobbed, tears forming in his eyes, "Joe, she was here."

Joe shook his head sadly at Barry, tears forming in his own eyes now. He didn't say anything. He just reached out and pulled Barry into a hug. Barry couldn't pull away even if he wanted to. He needed it. He needed someone to hug him. He wrapped his arms around Joe in return as he buried his face in Joe's shoulder, weak sobs wracking his body.

"It's okay, Barry," Joe said sadly, running a hand along the back of Barry's head, "It's okay. We're going to figure this out."

* * *

Iris hummed quietly to herself as she carried the laundry basket up the stairs. She didn't even live here now, but she still came over all the time to help out, especially with everything that was going on with Barry now.

They had urged Barry to take another sick day today, and Iris decided she was going to stay home and spend the day with him. Barry, however, had insisted he needed to go into the lab for a couple hours to finish up a few cases that needed to be done today. He promised he would come straight home as soon as he was done, though. Iris wasn't worried about him keeping that promise, knowing her dad would force him to leave work one way or another.

Iris gently pushed Barry's bedroom door open with her free hand, wedging the laundry basket between her other hand and her hip. All of the curtains in the room were pulled open, casting the room in bright sunlight. Iris walked over to Barry's dresser to put his now-clean clothes away for him.

After closing the drawer, her eyes landed on the small table next to the dresser where Barry kept his dad's old record player. Her heart sank when she saw the record album sitting next to it. It had been years since Barry had listened to that song. He used to play it all the time, when he was missing his mother.

Iris let out a heavy sigh and made to leave the room. When she got to the door, however, a small noise met her ears and made her pause. She looked back into the room, looking for the source of the sound. It sounded almost like… _whispering._

It was coming from the closet.

Iris slowly stepped closer to the closed closet door, her heart pounding in her chest. She couldn't make out any words from it, but she could definitely hear someone whispering to her from behind the door. Her mouth dry, Iris reached a shaky hand out to the knob on the door and slowly turned it.

* * *

Barry had half a mind to run to STAR Labs instead of home after Joe forced him to finally leave the precinct to get some rest. He knew he'd have Iris calling him non-stop if he did that, though, so he reluctantly decided to go home.

Things were still strained between them because of everything that was happening, but he was getting better about spending time with his family. He knew they were just worried about him and wanted to be there for him. Barry couldn't fault them for that. He was still angry with them for not believing in him, but he wasn't going to shun them for it anymore. They were his family, after all. He would spend the rest of the day with Iris, and things would be civil between them, maybe even pleasant.

That thought was thrown to the winds when Barry entered the house and heard the horrible screams coming from upstairs.

His blood ran cold.

Barry didn't think he had ever run faster in his life, and that was saying something. He flashed upstairs in an instant and quickly found Iris in his bedroom, curled up on the floor between his bed and his desk with her eyes squeezed tightly shut, her hands shaking as she kept them protectively over her head, as if expecting an attack. Iris let out another horrible scream that was both gut-wrenching and heart-breaking for Barry to hear. He quickly rushed over to her and touched her arm.

Iris's screams grew more hysterical, and she tried to fight him at first, pushing his hands away in a panic.

"Iris!" Barry yelled, "Iris! It's me! It's Barry!"

Iris's eyes snapped open and her scream died in her throat.

"B-barry," she cried and then flung herself into his arms, clinging to him as she sobbed brokenly into his shoulder.

"I believe you!" she sobbed, "Barry, I believe you!"

"Iris, what happened?" Barry asked urgently, hugging her protectively.

Iris sniffed and pulled away from him to look at him with watery eyes.

"There was someone in there," she sobbed hysterically, pointing towards his closet, "There…there was someone in the dark."

"It's okay, Iris," Barry said, hugging her, "You don't have to be afraid. It's my mother, remember?"

"Barry, that is _not_ your mother!" Iris cried hysterically, not even attempting to hide her fear, "Whatever it is, it isn't friendly. It's _evil_!"

Barry shook his head at her, a small smile on his face. He felt bad that she was scared, but he was so happy and relieved that Iris finally believed him.

"That's what I thought at first, too," he said quickly, "I'll admit, the whole thing is eerie at first; But once you get used to it, you'll see that—"

"Barry, _listen_ to me!" Iris sobbed, "That is _not_ your mother! I know you want it to be, but it's not!"

The smile slid from his face then as he looked at her in concern.

"Did it…?" he asked quietly, "Did it _hurt_ you?"

To his relief, Iris shook her head.

"No," she said quietly, "But it spoke to me."

"What did she say?" Barry asked urgently, leaning closer to her, eyes wide.

Iris looked at him with a dead-serious expression he had never seen on her face before. She had tears in her eyes when she answered him, her voice only a whisper.

" _He's mine._ "


	11. Not For Kids

**Not for Kids**

* * *

Well, the good news was that Iris believed him now. The bad news: she still didn't believe it was his mother. Barry didn't blame her, though. She had been really terrified by her experience in his room, and he _did_ have to admit: "He's mine" was kind of a freaky thing to hear.

Barry didn't let his faith that it was his mother waver, though. She may not have been speaking to Iris at all. She may have been speaking to the others, telling them to back off and leave her son alone. She was watching out for him.

Joe was somewhat angry over the whole incident. He _still_ didn't believe Barry, even after Iris recounted what had happened to her. Joe was extremely upset, claiming that Barry's delusions had his daughter paranoid now and was causing her to see things where they didn't exist. He tried hard not to blame Barry because he knew it wasn't his fault, but he didn't like that all three of his children were believing in this ghost nonsense now.

But Barry knew it wasn't nonsense, and now, so did Iris. Cisco wasn't the only one who believed Barry. Wally and Iris did, too, and that was because both of them had seen it themselves. Barry just wished he could find a way to get Joe and Caitlin to see the truth, too, to see that he wasn't crazy.

The only way to do that was to finally contact his mother, to figure out what she was trying to tell him. Wally was dead set against it, and Iris was terrified, but Cisco readily agreed to help him.

"So, what's your big idea?" Barry asked curiously as Cisco stepped into the house and Barry closed the door behind him.

Joe was working late, and it was the perfect opportunity for them to finally put their heads together and get to the bottom of this. Cisco had said he had an idea where to start, but he hadn't elaborated on that yet.

"I've got it right here," Cisco said, patting his bag as he moved into the living room and sat down next to Iris on the couch.

Wally was at his night class. It was probably good that he wasn't here, since he was so against them trying to contact the dead. Iris wasn't _against_ it per se, but she was very hesitant about the whole thing.

Barry and Iris both watched curiously as Cisco pulled a rectangular box out of his bag. It seemed to be a board game of some sort.

"Cisco," Barry said in surprise when he got a closer look at the box, "Is that…is that a _Ouija board_?"

Cisco nodded.

"Or a talking board," he said, "Whatever you want to call it."

"I am _not_ playing that," Iris said firmly, staring at the board in fear, "Why'd you even bring that in our _house_ , Cisco?"

"Because we're trying to contact the dead," Cisco said seriously, "What better way to do that than with a Ouija board?"

"Cisco," Barry said, rolling his eyes, "This game is for kids."

"Haven't you seen movies, dude?" Cisco asked, "This thing works."

"Yeah, in _movies_ , Cisco," Barry said, "Not in real life. All those stories are fake."

"Just like what's happening to _you_ is fake?" Cisco said, raising an eyebrow.

Barry sighed. He had a point.

Barry stared at the board. It had all the letters in the alphabet, as well numbers zero through 9. In the upper corners, it had the words yes and no, and on the very bottom, written in large black letters, it had the word GOODBYE.

Barry had always thought it was just a silly, superstitious kid's game. He and Iris had played it once when they were younger and she was over at his house. Barry's dad caught them and scolded them for it, making them promise to never play it again. Now, it seemed, Barry was going to break that promise.

"Okay," he sighed, "Let's try it."

"No way!" Iris said, shaking her head, "I'm not playing!"

"You have to, though," Cisco told her, "Everyone present has to play. That's the rules."

Iris sighed shakily, but she didn't say anything to protest.

"There are rules?" Barry asked curiously.

Cisco nodded.

"And it's really important that we follow them," he said seriously, looking pointedly at the other two.

"Okay," Barry said, sitting down on the couch next to Iris, "What are the rules?"

"Rule number one," Cisco said seriously, " _Never play alone_."

He looked pointedly at Barry in warning before continuing.

"Rule number two may be an issue," Cisco said, glancing awkwardly at Barry, "You shouldn't ever play if you're depressed or physically ill. It leaves you vulnerable."

"I'm not depressed," Barry said immediately.

Cisco gave Barry an unsure look.

"I'm _not_ ," Barry insisted forcefully.

"Barry," Iris said quietly, "Your dad just died."

Barry just shook his head.

"I'm fine, guys," he said stubbornly and then looked at Cisco, "What's rule number three?"

Cisco and Iris shared a brief glance at each other, but then Cisco continued.

"Rule number three: it's not a game," he said, "You have to take it seriously, even if you're skeptical about it. You have to believe that it's real. Otherwise you just piss the spirits off."

Barry and Iris both nodded slowly, and Cisco continued.

"Rule number four is more just a warning," he said, "If the spirit counts down through all the numbers or letters on the board at once or moves the pointer to all four corners, it's a bad omen. Usually, it means it's not a _human_ spirit."

"You mean a demon," Iris said quietly, a chill running down her spine.

Cisco nodded.

"Let's just hope it's not that," he said quietly.

Cisco gave himself a small mental shake then.

"Rule number five," he said, "Do not ever burn the board. It supposedly brings suffering to the person who burned it. There's not really any evidence to prove that, but best not chance it."

Barry and Iris both nodded.

"Last rule," Cisco continued seriously, " _Always say goodbye_. That's _extremely_ important. You need to close the circle properly, or you will leave it open for any spirit to come in."

"I think it's safe to say the spirits are already here," Iris said quietly.

Cisco nodded.

"Still," he said, "That's a very important rule."

He looked around the room then.

"Also, I think you're supposed to light a white candle while playing. It's supposed to provide protection or something."

"I think there's one in the bathroom," Iris said, standing up, "I'll go grab it."

When she returned, she was smelling it, a small smile on her face.

"I hope the spirits like Japanese Cherry Blossom," she laughed lightly.

Cisco chuckled.

"Okay," he said, "Ready to start?"

Cisco and Iris both looked at Barry, who nodded seriously. He hoped this would work.

"Okay," Cisco said, holding up the pointer, "This is called a planchette. The little glass circle in the center of it is supposed to allow you to see the dead if you look through it."

He held it up to his eye then and looked around the room. He must not have seen anything, though, because he sighed and placed it back down on the board.

"I'll get the lights," Barry said as Iris lit the candle.

He hesitated with his hand on the light switch, though. He never felt comfortable with the lights out anymore. He shook it off quickly, though, and flipped the light switch, casting the room in darkness, aside from the small candle sitting on the coffee table next to the board.

Barry sat back down on the couch next to Iris, and Cisco moved to kneel on the floor so he could be closer to the board.

"I think it will be more effective if Barry says the words," Cisco said quietly.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to say," Barry told him.

Cisco pulled out a sheet of paper and gave it to Barry, who then looked it over as he held it closer to the candle so he could see it.

"Okay," he said after he finished reading the words, "Got it."

"Alright then," Cisco said, "We all have to touch the planchette then."

Barry and Iris nodded, and all three of them lightly put the first two fingers of each hand on the pointer. Cisco looked seriously at Barry then.

"Are you sure?" he whispered.

Barry swallowed and then nodded.

"Okay," Cisco said, "First we circle the board, once for each of us, and then Barry has to open the circle."

Together, they slid the pointer in a circle on the board three times, and then Barry spoke, trying to keep the shakiness out of his voice.

"As friends we gather, hearts are true. Spirits near, we call to you. If there's a presence here, make yourself known."

They all stared at the pointer, waiting for it to move. Barry swallowed and spoke in a shaky voice.

"Mom," he said, "Are you here? Let us know you're here."

Iris's breath was hitching in her throat and she was shaking terribly. She didn't like this at all. She didn't want to play, but she also wanted to help Barry with this. Even though it was what they were waiting for, she found herself hoping that the pointer _wouldn't_ move. She was freaked out about all this stuff enough as it was.

"She's here," Barry said suddenly.

Iris and Cisco stared at him with wide eyes.

"How do you know?" Iris whispered, her heart pounding.

"I…" Barry choked, "I can _feel_ it. There's someone else in the room."

All three of them looked around the dark living room. It was almost pitch black, the candle doing very little to illuminate much more than the board and their scared faces. The darkness around them unsettled all of their nerves.

"Mom, give us a sign," Barry pressed on, making Iris's heart beat faster, "Are you here?"

The pointer suddenly jerked to the left, causing all three of them to jump and pull their hands away.

YES

"Oh, my God," Iris choked, putting a hand over her mouth.

They all stared at it for a moment before Barry slowly reached out and shakily put his fingers back on the pointer. He looked at the other two, and they seemed to hesitate slightly before following his lead, slowly reaching out to touch the pointer again. Barry slid it so that it was back in the middle again.

"I heard you, mom," he said, tears forming in the corners of his eyes, "I got your messages, and I know you're here now. I'm listening. What do you want to tell me?"

They all stared at the pointer, waiting for it to move again. It didn't.

"Do you _want_ something?" Cisco asked quietly.

The pointer jerked again, sliding to the upper left corner again. They didn't remove their hands from it this time, though.

YES

They all stared at in shock, still not believing that the pointer was actually moving, that they were actually making contact with Barry's mother. Barry's heart was racing as Iris spoke next.

"What do you want?" she asked in a scared voice.

The pointer moved again, stopping on a letter.

"B…" Cisco said quietly, "…A"

They all stared at the pointer when it stopped on the Y.

"Barry," Iris said quietly.

The other two both looked at Barry, who was still staring at the pointer. Barry swallowed.

"I'm right here, mom," he said shakily, "I'm here for you. What do you want to tell me? Do you want something from me? Is there something I need to _do_?"

YES

"What?" Barry asked urgently, "What do you need me to do?"

The pointer moved towards the C then, moving a little slower this time as it went to the O.

COMEBACK

"Come back?" Iris said, looking at the other two in confusion, "What does that mean?"

"Come back _where_ , mom?" Barry asked in confusion.

The pointer jerked again, moving over the letters a little faster now.

TOME

Barry swallowed.

"You mean the Void?" he whispered, "You want me to go back there?"

YES

"I…I can't do that, mom," Barry choked, "I…I don't belong there. I belong _here_ , with the living."

NO

The three of them all stared at each other. Barry's mind was reeling. He didn't understand. Why would his mother want him to go back to that awful place?

"You…" he whispered, "You want me to go back there? To _stay_ there?"

YES

"Mom," Barry choked. "I…I can't. I want to be with you, but…I wouldn't even know how to get there again."

The pointer moved again, moving painfully slowly to the D, and then the I…

Barry's blood ran cold when it landed on the E.

"Die," Cisco whispered shakily.

Barry's heart dropped into his stomach. No. This wasn't right. His mother…she would never ask this of him. She would never want him to die, no matter how much she wanted him to be with her. Barry felt like he was going to throw up as his blood started to boil and his face heated.

"My mom would never want me to die," he said quietly, and then his voice rose, "This isn't my mother, is it?!"

NO

The candle went out, engulfing them in complete darkness.

Iris felt a scream leave her lips. Fear rooted her to the spot as she then heard an earsplitting crash, followed by several more and the tinkling of breaking glass. The room seemed to be erupting into chaos around them. The next thing Iris heard was a cry of pain from Barry that quickly escalated into a scream.

"Turn the lights on!" Cisco yelled at Iris, who was closest to the light switch.

Iris felt like she couldn't move. She was paralyzed by fear. A second cry of pain from Barry roused her, though, and moved her into action. She rushed over to the wall and flipped the switch.

The room was then illuminated by light.

* * *

 **Please don't play Ouija after reading this. It's not a good game, and it's not something that should be messed with. Also, don't play it alone. Even if it's fake and nothing happens, it seriously messes with your head afterwards. I played alone, and nothing happened—probably because I'm a skeptic—but for a good week afterwards, I swear weird things started to happen to me, and I know it was all just in my head, but it was still freaky, and I developed sleep paralysis right after playing it. Even if you're a skeptic like me, just don't play the game.**


	12. The Darkness

**Warning: Minor non-con**

* * *

 **The Darkness**

* * *

Barry never should have tried to use light in this place. He had drawn the others right to him. They had found him, and they knew he didn't belong here. Barry's throat felt like it was tearing from screaming so loud as they surrounded him.

He felt their hands enveloping him, bruising and scratching at his body. Barry tried to fight them, tried to run, to escape their grasp, but they were too strong. He could feel them on all sides of him, crushing in on him as they all fought each other to lay their hands on him.

Barry tried to vibrate to escape their grasp, but their tenacious hands continued to claw at him. As he vibrated and panicked, lightning sparking off of him periodically, providing him with brief glimmers of light. It was no comfort, though. Each flash of light revealed a new face, a new horrifying sight that would forever haunt his nightmares. The last flash of light that sparked off his body revealed _her_ face, just before the light fizzled out again and she pressed closer to him.

Barry soon felt cold lips assaulting his own.

He gasped through the pair of lips covering his and attempted to pull away, but he felt as if he were paralyzed. The cold lips soon parted and with horror, Barry soon felt something else breaching his lips, prodding its way into his mouth. She tasted like death, like the rotting, repulsive essence of a corpse. Barry wanted to throw up as her mouth assaulted his own in the worst way.

He felt as if he were being filled with icy water, a cold chill invading his body, seeping into him all the way to his core. His heart, which had been beating wildly a moment ago, had gone still in his chest, as if it, too, had been frozen in ice.

He was going to die here.

A part of him thought that maybe he was _already_ dead. Maybe he hadn't just stumbled his way into this dimension. Maybe he had died while trying to jump earths. It was something that the human body just wasn't meant to do, and maybe he had pushed his limits too far. If he wasn't dead already, he certainly would be soon. Barry felt as if he were being ripped away from his body. He could no longer feel his limbs. He couldn't even feel their hands on him anymore. His body no longer belonged to him.

It belonged to _them_.

* * *

"Oh, my God!" Iris cried, "Oh, my God! Oh, my God!"

"That's not _helping_ , Iris!" Cisco yelled in a panic.

He wasn't doing much better, himself, though. His mind was consumed by panic too as he fought to hold Barry down.

"Barry, it's okay!" Cisco shouted, but it was no use.

Barry was in another place entirely, screaming and fighting against Cisco as he laid on the couch, his eyes completely unfocused and seeing things they couldn't see. The living room around them was absolutely destroyed, furniture flipped over and shattered glass surrounding them.

"Oh, my God!" Iris cried again, "He's _bleeding_!"

She pointed at the scratches covering Barry's neck that were oozing blood, which was now seeping into the sofa. Barry continued to thrash and fight against Cisco, still screaming at the top of his lungs with tears streaming down his face.

"Barry, can you hear me?!" Cisco yelled desperately, but Barry continued to scream.

Iris jumped when Cisco suddenly slapped Barry across the face.

"Cisco!" she scolded in disbelief.

It worked, though. Barry stopped screaming and thrashing then. His eyes, however, remained unfocused, and his entire body was trembling violently as he laid there.

"Barry?" Iris asked quietly, tears streaming down her own face.

Barry didn't respond. He stared straight ahead at the ceiling with tear-filled eyes, his body still shaking horribly. The look of intense fear and anguish on his face was heartbreaking.

"What do we do?" Iris asked Cisco desperately.

"I don't know," he admitted, "We need to get him to Caitlin. Can you help me get him to my car?"

Iris nodded and rushed forward to grab Barry's arm.

"He's cold as ice!" she gasped.

It was hard to tell if Barry was shaking in fear or shivering, but it was probably safe to say it was a mixture of the two. Barry was still completely unresponsive as they hefted his dead weight off the couch. He whimpered quietly as they maneuvered his limp body.

"Careful," Cisco said, grabbing Barry as gently as possible, "The bruises."

Iris had almost forgotten. She hadn't seen them for herself yet, but from what her dad and Caitlin had told her, they were awful.

Together, they hoisted Barry's limp form through the front door and out to the car. It wasn't an easy task between the two of them. Barry wasn't exactly light, and his long limbs and tall frame made him difficult to maneuver, but they managed it.

Iris crawled into the back seat with Barry and laid his head down on her lap. She ran his fingers through his hair as the car lurched forward, taking off for STAR Labs. Barry trembled in her arms, his eyes still staring at things she couldn't see. His breathing was ragged and strained, and when Iris checked his pulse, she found it to be racing, too fast even for him. Barry was clearly terrified by whatever it was he was seeing.

"It's okay, Barry," Iris tried to soothe, "It's okay. I'm here. You're safe."

Barry was still unresponsive when they pulled him out of the car and dragged him into STAR Labs, where thankfully, Caitlin was still working at the desk in the cortex.

"Oh, my God," Caitlin said in shock when they dragged an unresponsive Barry into the cortex, "What _happened_?"

Cisco and Iris both looked at each other, not sure how to explain.

"It's attacking him," Iris decided to say, "Whatever _it_ is, it's attacking him, messing with his head."

They quickly got Barry onto one of the beds in the med bay, and Caitlin started looking him over. Barry's breathing was out of control now, and his heart was going so fast, the monitor could barely register it, the numbers jumping all over the place.

"He's having a panic attack," Caitlin said urgently, looking him over, "Something must have set off another delusion."

"He's not delusional," Iris said angrily, "We were there! Whatever this thing is, it attacked him!"

Caitlin gave her an uneasy look but didn't argue.

"Help me get his shirt off," she said to Cisco then.

Cisco nodded and helped her lean Barry's limp form forward off the bed so they could pull his shirt over his head. They all gasped once the shirt was removed. All of them felt like they were going to be sick when they saw what had happened—what had _been_ happening—to Barry's body.

"Are those…?" Iris asked.

"Bite marks," Cisco said, his mouth dry.

Barry's body was covered in more than just hand-shaped bruises. There were multiple claw marks and bite marks covering his arms and torso. Some of the bruises looked different from the others. They were smaller and darker. They almost looked like…

"Are those _hickies_?!" Cisco asked, appalled.

No one said anything. Instead, Caitlin moved forward to shine a light in Barry's eyes. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, passing the light over both eyes multiple times.

"His pupils aren't responding," she said worriedly, "They're wide as saucers, and they're not reacting to the light."

"What does _that_ mean?" Iris asked tearfully, still looking at the marks on Barry's body in horror.

"It means he's either blind, which is unlikely, or he has a major head injury," Caitlin said seriously, palpating Barry's skull.

"Or he's in the dark," Cisco said quietly.

Caitlin looked at him in confusion.

"What?" she asked.

Before Cisco could explain, Barry suddenly let out a horrible scream, causing all of them to nearly jump out of their skins. Cisco rushed forward to help when Barry started to thrash violently in the bed, fighting against them.

"Barry, calm down!" Caitlin yelled over his screams, "It's okay! You're safe! It's just in your head!"

They all gasped when blood suddenly blossomed on Barry's chest, three long scratches suddenly appearing out of nowhere.

"What the…?" Caitlin said, staring at the scratches in disbelief.

"PLEASE!" Barry screamed, "PLEASE STOP!"

Barry squeezed his eyes shut and tears rolled down his cheeks, causing all of their hearts to break. Barry gasped then and his eyes snapped open. To their surprise, his eyes suddenly focused on Caitlin then.

"C-caitlin," he choked, tears in his eyes.

They all sighed in relief. He was back.

"It's okay, Barry," Caitlin said quickly, "You're safe. You're at STAR Labs."

Barry looked blearily at Cisco and Iris then, a panicked expression still on his face and his breathing still strained.

"W-we," he choked, "We d-didn't s-s…"

Barry struggled to get another breath in. His body was shaking so violently, it was practically vibrating.

"It's okay, Barry," Cisco assured him, "You're okay. You're safe."

Barry shook his head and tried to speak again, struggling to get the words out.

"G-g…" he choked, "G-good—"

"Barry, you need to calm down," Caitlin urged, glancing worriedly at his monitor, "Your heart. You're on the verge of a heart attack right now."

Barry shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut.

"W-we d-didn't—"

Barry's mouth clamped shut then, and his eyes snapped open. He didn't look at any of them, but instead his eyes focused on a space next to his bed. His heart monitor beeped shrilling in warning.

"I'm going to sedate him," Caitlin said urgently, "His heart can't take this kind of strain."

Barry's eyes widened, and he shook his head frantically.

"I'm sorry, Barry," Caitlin said regretfully as she pushed the needle into his vein.

A few more tears fell from Barry's eyes, which were filled with sheer terror for a few moments before they reluctantly slid shut.

* * *

"PLEASE!" Barry screamed at his attackers, "PLEASE STOP!"

The attack didn't stop, though. Feeling helpless, Barry squeezed his eyes shut and prayed for it to be over, for this nightmare to end. When he opened them again, blinding light suddenly flooded his vision. Barry gasped and looked around, and within a few seconds, Caitlin's face came into view.

"C-caitlin," he choked, feeling tears streaming down his face.

He tried to reach out to her, but his muscles weren't responding.

"It's okay, Barry," she soothed quickly, "You're safe. You're at STAR Labs."

 _No_. He _wasn't_ safe. The others were still here. He could feel it. He had foolishly invited them in, and now Barry didn't know if they were ever going to leave. His heart seemed to still in his chest as a thought occurred to him.

 _They hadn't said goodbye_.

They hadn't closed the circle.

Barry's eyes sought out for Cisco and Iris. He managed to turn his head slightly, and the other two came into view. He had to tell them! They had to close the circle now before something terrible happened! Barry could hardly breathe, though, let alone speak, and the words came out shaky and weak.

"W-we," he choked, "We d-didn't s-s…"

His breath caught in his throat, and Barry struggled just to get air in his chest. His body felt like it was being submerged in icy water, and it felt like that water was now flooding his lungs, not allowing him to speak or to breath. Barry's heart pounded painfully in his chest as his trembling grew worse, to the point where he was nearly vibrating.

"It's okay, Barry," Cisco's voice said, "You're okay. You're safe."

But he _wasn't_ safe! _None_ of them were! They didn't say goodbye!

"G-g…" Barry stuttered, unable to say one word, "G-good—"

"Barry, you need to calm down," Caitlin urged, cutting him off, "Your heart. You're on the verge of a heart attack right now."

Barry squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head in frustration. They weren't listening to him. He was trying to tell them something, but they weren't _listening_. His eyes still squeezed shut, Barry tried again, forcing the words to leave his mouth, demanding that they listen to him.

"W-we d-didn't—"

Barry's eyes snapped open when he felt a cold hand clamp harshly over his mouth, silencing him. He looked to his left, at the owner of the hand, and his heartrate seemed to double instantly. There, standing right next to Caitlin, was _her._ Her black eyes were boring holes through him, a malicious smile on her face as she kept her hand firmly placed over his mouth, preventing him from speaking, from telling the others to close the circle. With her other hand, she held a finger up to her smiling lips, gesturing him to remain silent. Barry's heart felt like it was going to leap out of his chest as he stared into her eyes.

"I'm going to sedate him," Caitlin said in a strained voice, "His heart can't take this strain."

Barry tore his eyes away from the soulless eyes and looked at Caitlin, his eyes widening in panic as he shook his head at her. _No!_ She couldn't sedate him! He needed to tell them! They had to close the circle!

"I'm sorry, Barry," Caitlin said, her voice filled with remorse.

 _No!_ She couldn't sedate him! He couldn't go back there! He couldn't go back into the dark again!

He couldn't say anything, though. The hand was still covering his mouth.

Tears streamed down Barry's face when he felt the sharp prick of a needle in his arm. The last thing he saw as he was submerging back into the darkness was _her_ eyes. As his eyelids slid shut, Barry wondered morbidly if it was the last thing he would ever see.


	13. GOODBYE

**GOODBYE**

* * *

"What the _hell_ is this?!" Joe boomed as he entered the med bay.

The others all looked at him in shock. Joe was holding up the Ouija board, the one he had no doubt found in his house after walking in to find a destroyed living room.

"The board," Cisco said quietly, staring at it.

"Get that horrible thing out of here!" Iris cried at her father.

"What was it even doing in my _house_?!" he demanded.

"Joe," Cisco said quickly, "I can explain."

Joe didn't look at him, though. Joe's eyes widened suddenly when he spotted Barry lying unconscious in the medical bed. The board slipped out of his hands and dropped to the floor as he stepped forward, tears forming in his eyes as he saw the marks covering Barry's body.

"Oh, my God," he whispered, putting a hand over his mouth.

There were bruises, scratches, and _bite marks_ covering almost every inch of Barry's body. His skin was a canvas of black, blue, yellow, and every color in between. Why hadn't Barry told them it was this bad? It was worse than Joe could have ever imagined. A single tear escaped Joe's eye when he was struck by a sudden thought.

Barry didn't do this to himself.

He _couldn't_ be doing it to himself. It was impossible. Anger replaced shock as Joe made this realization. Somebody else was doing this. Someone was hurting his son.

"What happened?" he asked the others urgently.

They all looked at each other.

"We made contact," Cisco answered then, "We used the board. We made contact with the thing that's been trying to get to Barry. It attacked him."

Joe turned and looked at Barry again, not knowing what to think anymore.

"I sedated him," Caitlin said quietly, "He was hysterical. He was having a panic attack, and I was worried about his heart, so I had no choice but to sedate him."

"We shouldn't have," Iris said seriously, "I still say it was wrong of us to sedate him."

"It's better than having his heart give out," Caitlin snapped.

"He didn't want to be sedated, though," Iris said, her voice cracking, "He looked so scared."

"I didn't _want_ to do it," Caitlin said painfully, "But I had to."

"What did this to him?" Joe asked quietly, "What…what left those marks on him?"

Iris glared at her father.

"Maybe the very thing he's been trying to tell us about this whole time," she said angrily, "Whatever it was that followed him back from the Void."

Joe didn't say anything at first. He just looked remorsefully at his son.

"I thought he said it was his mother," he choked, "Why…?"

"It's not his mother," Cisco said darkly, "Whatever or whoever it is, she's not his mother."

"I think…" Iris choked, looking at Barry, "I think she means to harm him. She…she wants him to die."

Joe stared at her.

"What?" he asked in shock.

"That's what it said," Cisco told him, "We asked it what it wanted from him, and it said it wants him to die."

"Through that thing?" Joe asked, pointing at the board on the floor.

Cisco nodded, glaring down at the insidious board. His eyes widened then.

"Oh, my God," he said suddenly.

"What?" Iris asked.

"Barry," he said urgently, "He…he was trying to tell us...We didn't say goodbye!"

Iris's eyes widened, the blood draining from her face.

"Oh, my God!" she cried.

Cisco rushed forward and picked the board up.

"Joe," he said urgently, "Did you bring the planchette with you, too?"

Joe frowned at him.

"The what?"

"The pointer!" Cisco yelled frantically, "It was sitting on top of the board!"

"I didn't see any pointer," Joe said, "I just walked into my destroyed living room, and then I cased the whole house. I found the board in Barry's room."

Cisco and Iris both looked at each other.

"You found it in Barry's room?" Iris asked shakily.

Joe nodded.

"C'mon!" Cisco said urgently, grabbing Iris by the arm and pulling her with him, "We have to get back to the house!"

Joe watched them both leave with tears forming in his eyes. After they had rushed out of the lab, Joe turned back to Barry. Even in unconsciousness, he had an expression of anguish on his face. His sleep was far from peaceful.

"What do _you_ think about all of this?" Joe asked the doctor.

Caitlin gave him an uneasy look as she was cleansing the scratches on Barry's chest.

"I…I believe him, Joe," she said quietly, "Don't _you_? There's no way Barry did this to himself."

"I know," Joe whispered, "I know that something more is going on here—I know that now—but…ghosts?"

Caitlin sighed and applied a clean bandage over the scratches.

"What other explanation do we have?" she asked quietly.

Joe sighed.

"I just…I'm just having a hard time accepting this," he admitted, "And really it has nothing to do with me not believing in Barry."

Caitlin gave him a questioning look, and Joe sighed heavily.

"My wife…Francine," he said quietly, "She was obsessed with this stuff for years, spent all our money on psychics and mediums. I always argued with her about it, told her it was all fake and that she was being scammed. She wouldn't listen to me. She…she lost her sister, and she was desperate to speak to her again. She just couldn't cope with the grief—turned to drugs and mysticism for comfort instead of me. I guess I grew to resent all of this ghost stuff over time, and because of it…I didn't believe in Barry. I didn't _want_ to believe it."

"Joe," Caitlin said sadly, putting a hand on his arm, "I didn't know."

She looked tearfully at Barry then.

"I didn't even _have_ a good reason," she said bitterly, "I chose not to believe in Barry because I was trying to look at everything from a scientist's perspective. I also…I also know from firsthand experience what grief can do to people, how it can mess with your mind. I know Barry's been grieving his father more than he lets on…because that's what I did, too. He's been keeping in all of this pain, and I just assumed that it was finally being unleashed. I didn't think that all of this stuff could really be happening to him."

"Barry will forgive you for that, Caitlin," Joe said surely, "But me…"

Joe ran a hand through Barry's hair.

"He's never going to forgive me," he choked, tears forming in his eyes.

"Of course, he will," Caitlin said incredulously, "How could you possibly think Barry wouldn't forgive you, Joe?"

Joe shook his head and wiped the tears from his eyes.

"You don't understand," he said tearfully, "You don't understand the history between me and Barry. You didn't see how hard it was when he was a teenager. The nightmares. The therapists. All the fights we had…"

"About his father," Caitlin whispered, understanding now.

"It was so hard," Joe said, his voice cracking, "I was a single father, and Barry was so…broken. I did the best I could, and I never once regretted taking him in, not even for a moment, but…we had some rough years. For _fourteen_ years, I didn't believe in Barry. For fourteen years, _no one_ believed in him. And Barry's adolescence was _hell_ because of it. He was bullied and ridiculed and psychoanalyzed for half his life. No one should ever have to grow up that way. If just one person—if _I_ —had just believed in him, it would have made things so much easier for him. It would have been less of a burden for him to carry. To this day, I continue to be amazed by how he turned out to be so normal. So bright."

"Barry is anything but normal, Joe," Caitlin said, giving him a watery smile, "He's a hero. And that has nothing to do with his powers. It has to do with the way he was _raised_. You raised an amazing person, Joe."

Joe gave her a sad smile and wiped his eyes.

"I know," he said proudly, with just a hint of sorrow in his voice.

A shrill beeping noise suddenly erupted from the monitor next to them. Both of them looked up at it with wide eyes.

"Barry!" Caitlin said in alarm as he started to fight again.

She and Joe both grabbed his arms and struggled to keep Barry pinned to the bed. He was fighting them _hard,_ as if his very life depended on it. Joe's heart ached horribly when he saw the tears flowing down Barry's face.

And then Barry screamed.

It was a sound unlike any Joe had ever leave the boy's mouth. He had seen Barry at his worst, had woken him from his worst nightmares countless times, but this was different. This was terror Joe had never seen before.

"Barry!" Joe shouted, "It's okay! You're okay!"

Joe's words went unheard, though. Even if Barry were alert, he wouldn't have been able to hear Joe over the horrible screams that were issuing from his mouth.

"We need to wake him up!" Joe yelled at the doctor.

Caitlin nodded tearfully.

"I can try giving him Narcan to reverse the sedative, but I don't know if it'll work. It's just normal Narcan. It's not designed for Barry's metabolism."

"Get it!" Joe said urgently, "I'll hold him down! Just do what you need to do!"

Caitlin nodded and moved quickly to grab the vials she needed. Joe continued to hold Barry down, which turned out to be a lot harder than he thought it would be. Barry was more than just fighting to escape his grasp.

He was fighting for his life.

Joe hissed in pain when Barry clawed viciously at his arms, but he ignored it. The sound of Barry's screams hurt him far worse than any physical pain.

"Caitlin, where's that damn Narcan?!" Joe shouted over Barry's screams.

"I've got it!" the doctor said, rushing forward with a syringe, "Try to hold his arm still."

Joe laid Barry's arm flat on the bed and held it there, grunting in pain when Barry's knee flew up and hit him hard in the ribs. Caitlin quickly but carefully slid the needle into Barry's arm and pushed down on the plunger, administering the medication. Joe had seen narcan used countless times through his work. Usually it was used for emergency treatment of drug overdoses. It reversed the effects of multiple different kinds of narcotics. He also knew that the effect was supposed to be instantaneous. Most users woke up within seconds of it being given to them, usually very grumpy to find that they had lost their high.

"How much did you give him?!" Joe asked her urgently when Barry didn't wake up and continued to thrash.

"The max dose for most people," Caitlin responded seriously, grabbing another syringe, "It only comes in two milliliter syringes. I'll have to inject him multiple times."

By the time Caitlin injected the twelfth dose of Narcan, Barry still wasn't awake.

"Give him another!" Joe said desperately, his heart tearing in two with every agonized scream issued from Barry's mouth.

"It won't work," Caitlin said with tears in her eyes, "I've given him _twenty-four_ milliliters, Joe! His bloodstream is _full_ of it. It's not working!"

Joe looked back down at Barry, who had tears rolling down his face as he let out a sound that was more than just a scream. It was a wail of agony, the sound of a dying animal. Joe's stomach clenched as he grabbed Barry's hand and squeezed it tightly.

"You can fight this, Bar!" Joe choked, "I know you can! I believe in you! _I believe you_."

* * *

"It's not here!" Iris cried, "I can't find it!"

"Just keep looking!" Cisco said desperately, as he dug through Barry's things, "It's got to be here somewhere!"

Barry's bedroom was completely torn apart from their searching. Cisco pulled another drawer completely out of Barry's dresser and started frantically rummaging through it, scattering Barry's things all over the floor. After searching the drawer thoroughly, Cisco chucked it aside.

"I don't know what to do," he gasped, tears in his eyes, "I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do."

"Maybe we should search the rest of the—"

 _My love must be kind of blind love  
I can't see anyone but you_

Cisco and Iris both looked over to the record player Barry kept in the corner of his room, which was now softly emitting the same familiar song that Iris had heard many times. Barry had played it every time he was feeling down and missing his mother. It didn't stir the same feelings of sadness in Iris that it normally did, though. Instead, she just felt anger.

 _Are the stars out tonight?  
I don't know if it's cloudy or bright  
I only have eyes, for you_

Iris stormed over to the player and ripped the needle away from the spinning disk, silencing the eery sound. With an angry expression on her face, Iris turned back and looked at Cisco, who was standing there with wide eyes. Both of them looked over to the other side of the room then when they heard the high-pitched creaking sound of Barry's closet door slowly opening.

Both of them stared at the dark doorway, their hearts racing.

"Don't," Iris said, when Cisco took a step towards the closet, "Cisco, don't. It's what she wants."

Cisco gave her a nervous look.

"But what if the planchette is in there?" he whispered.

"What if it's not?" Iris asked quietly, her entire body trembling as she stared at the black doorway, "Cisco, don't go in there."

"What about Barry, though?" Cisco asked seriously, swallowing back the lump of fear in his throat, "He's suffering, Iris."

Iris wiped a few tears from her face and then nodded, no longer arguing.

Cisco took a slow step towards the closet then, staring into the dark, insidious space. The closet was too small to install a lightbulb, but it was large enough for a person to stand in. Cisco took a step through the doorway, his breath catching in his throat when the cold air of the closet hit him. A heavy sense of dread flowed through his veins as he entered the closet. It was a feeling he had only experienced once before.

In a vibe.

Iris watched nervously as Cisco fully entered the dark closet, hands outstretched in front of him so he could feel his way. A scream escaped her throat when the door suddenly slammed shut.

"CISCO!"

 _I don't know if, we're in a garden.  
Or on the crowded avenue  
I only have eyes, for you_

Iris ignored the music issuing from the record player again, as she screamed and pounded on the door, tears rolling down her face.

"Cisco!" she screamed, "Cisco, open the door!"

"I can't!" Cisco's voice answered in a panic, "It wont open!"

 _The moon may be high  
But I can't see a thing, in the sky  
I only have eyes, for you_

Iris wrenched at the door knob and pounded on the stubborn wood as Cisco did the same thing from the other side.

"Oh, my God!" Iris sobbed as she slammed her fists uselessly on the door, "CISCO!"

Iris heard something clatter to the floor, and she glanced down. She had dropped her cell phone. She quickly dropped to her knees to grab it and call for help.

"This can't be happening!" Iris cried when she saw that she had no service, "Please, God, no!"

 _You are here, and so am I  
Maybe millions of people, go by  
But they all disappear, from view  
And I only have eyes, for you_

Iris sat on the floor, trying uselessly to get signal on her phone while Cisco continued to pound on the door of the closet he was locked into. It was here, sitting on the floor, that Iris suddenly saw a small movement from the corner of her eye.

It came from under Barry's bed.

Iris quickly crouched down to get a closer look. There was something under there.

"Cisco!" Iris yelled, a smile forming on her face, "I found it! I found the pointer!"

Iris turned and looked back at the closed closet door, only just now realizing that the pounding had stopped.

"Cisco?" Iris asked fearfully, "Cisco, answer me!"

There was no reply. Only silence. Even the music had stopped now. The record was still spinning, but the needle had reached the end of the disk and was now making only a quiet clicking sound. Panic welling in her chest, Iris knelt down by the bed and reached under it to grab the pointer. She grabbed the small object easily, but as she was pulling it out from under the bed, she suddenly felt cold fingers wrap themselves tightly around her wrist.

Iris let out a bloodcurdling scream and yanked her arm out of the person's grasp, scrambling away from the bed as fast as she could.

" _He's mine. He's mine. He's mine,_ " a voice said over and over again.

Iris let out a pitiful sob, tears rolling down her face as the music started to play again.

 _My love must be kind of blind love  
I can't see anyone but you_

Iris scrambled over to where the game board was lying on the floor. She quickly placed the planchette on top of it, resting her fingers lightly on top of the pointer.

 _"_ _He's mine. He's mine. He's mine. He's mine._ "

"NO, HE'S NOT!" Iris screamed in fury, "GOODBYE!"

Iris forced the pointer to the bottom of the board.

"GOODBYE!" she screamed again, "GOODBYE! GOODBYE!"

The music suddenly stopped. The room went silent. Iris looked around the room with watery eyes, her breath hitching in her throat and her entire body trembling in fear. She stared at the closet door when it slowly creaked open.


	14. Clue

**Clue**

* * *

Joe's arms and hands were slick with blood, both Barry's and his own. It made it difficult to maintain his grasp on Barry's wrists, but he managed it. Barry let out a scream of pain as yet another scratch appeared on his body.

Just like the others.

Barry's chest and neck were now covered with scratches and claw marks, and Caitlin was scrambling to slow the bleeding as Barry continued to fight and scream until his voice was broken and raw. As much as they tried to calm him, it was impossible. He was being assaulted by something they couldn't see.

"Please," Joe said, closing his eyes and squeezing Barry's hands, "Please, just let this stop. _Please_."

Barry struggled in his arms, his attempts to break free growing weaker until finally, it stopped. Suddenly, Barry went limp.

"Barry?" Joe sobbed, pulling his bloodied hands away from him.

Barry had gone completely still.

Caitlin swooped in then, a penlight in hand. She placed a finger over one of Barry's eyes and gently pried it open to shine the light in it. Caitlin suddenly gasped and jerked her hand away, but not before Joe got a glimpse of Barry's eye. It was black. Not just the irises. His eyes were completely black, whites and all. Joe sucked in a breath in shock.

"Did you see that?" Caitlin whispered.

Joe nodded and stepped towards the bed, quickly prying open Barry's eye again to get a closer look. It was normal again. Instead of glistening black, Barry's eyes were now his usual hazel color.

"What's happening to him?" Joe choked.

As Joe pulled his hand back from Barry's face then, Barry's eyes suddenly blinked open. Joe's heart leapt.

"Barry?" he said urgently.

Barry blinked multiple times against the light of the room, gulping in large breaths of air.

"Barry, are you okay?" Caitlin asked worriedly, stepping closer to the bed.

He looked back at her, looking back and forth between them with a confused look on his face.

"Where am I?" he croaked, his voice scratchy from screaming.

* * *

Iris stared at the open closet door, the pitch-black doorway ominously glaring back at her.

"Cisco?" she asked shakily, "Cisco, are you okay?"

Iris jumped slightly when Cisco slowly stepped out of the closet, a traumatized look on his face. He took a few steps before collapsing on his knees on the floor next to her.

"I'm okay," he said shakily.

He looked at the board on the floor in front of her then.

"Did you say goodbye?" he asked quietly.

Iris nodded, tears streaming down her face. She then noticed the box in Cisco's hands. It was a board game of some kind. Iris's heart clenched when she saw the cover.

Clue—the classic detective game.

"What is…?" she asked in confusion, staring at the familiar box, "What are you doing with that?"

"He gave it to me," Cisco said quietly.

Iris stared at him.

"He?" she asked.

"Barry's…" Cisco choked, "Barry's dad. Henry."

Iris's mouth hung open for a moment or two as she processed his words.

"It was him," Cisco said firmly, "He spoke to me."

"What did he say?" Iris whispered, looking back down at the box.

She hadn't seen it in years. She didn't even know Barry still had it. She looked back up at Cisco when he answered her.

"Save him."

* * *

"Barry, what happened?" Caitlin asked softly, as she cleansed the newly opened wounds on his torso.

Barry was staring at the ceiling as she cleaned him up, a blank look on his face.

"Bar, talk to us," Joe begged, still shaking uncontrollably, "What happened to you?"

Barry stirred then, turning his head to look at Joe. He opened and closed his mouth a couple times. Joe and Caitlin waited patiently, tears in their eyes they watch Barry struggled to find words.

"I was in the dark," he whispered after a moment, "I was in the dark for…an eternity. I thought it was never going to end."

"It's okay, Barry," Joe choked, "It's over now. You're going to be okay."

Barry didn't say anything in reply. He just stared straight in front of him again.

"Barry, I'm so sorry I didn't believe you," Joe choked, "I know you'll probably never forgive me, but I need you to know how sorry I am. I should have believed you from the start."

"I forgive you," Barry whispered.

Joe stared at him in shock. Just like that? Barry forgave him? Barry had always been forgiving, but Joe had expected a little more outrage. Barry wasn't showing any emotions right now. He was just in shock.

"Barry," Joe choked, not sure what to say.

Barry just shook his head and looked at him again. Tears formed in his eyes, which both broke Joe's heart and relieved him at the same time. At least Barry was showing some emotion.

"I don't want to stay mad at you," Barry choked, a few tears trailing down his face, "Life is too short to be mad at the ones you love. I just want to move past this. I want to move on."

"Okay, Barry," Joe said in a strained voice, putting a hand on Barry's shoulder.

Barry flinched slightly, and Joe quickly withdrew his hand. Almost immediately, though, Barry reached out and grabbed it, clinging to it tightly. He _reveled_ in the touch, desperately needing it to ground him.

"Barry, what happened?" Caitlin asked again, her voice gentle, "What happened when you were…in the dark?"

Barry stared at her with tear-filled eyes.

"I don't want to talk about the dark," he whispered, "I…can't."

"It's okay, Bar," Joe said quickly, "You don't have to. It's okay now. You're safe."

* * *

Cisco hung up his phone with a relieved sigh.

"Barry's okay," he told Iris, moving to crouch on the floor next to her, "He's awake now. Caitlin said he was still a little in shock, but he's going to be okay."

Iris sighed in relief.

"Good," she said quietly, looking down at the box on the floor between them.

"What's in the box, Iris?" Cisco asked, staring at it, "It's not a board game, is it?"

Iris shook her head.

"I didn't know Barry still had this," she said quietly, "He told my dad years ago he had gotten rid of it."

Iris sighed and pulled the lid off the box. Cisco looked at it curiously. It was filled with old newspapers. He was confused at first, until he read the headlines. He recognized them immediately.

"His mother's murder," he whispered.

Iris nodded and sighed.

"My dad found this box in Barry's closet when he was in high school," she said, pulling out some of its contents.

Cisco quickly saw that it was more than just newspapers. The box contained pages and pages of notes, scrawled in Barry's handwriting. There were even a few official-looking files in the box.

"My dad was furious when he found it," Iris said quietly, "Barry stole the case files from the CCPD when he was a teenager. He made photo copies of them and studied them. He obsessed over the case. When my dad found this box, he and Barry had one of the biggest fights they've ever had. Barry almost ran away. Things were pretty bad for a while."

Cisco wasn't surprised by this information. He had seen the board in Barry's lab. This appeared to be an earlier version of it, started by Barry in his younger years. After Henry was freed, it was easy to forget that this case had been the focal point of most of Barry's life. His entire adolescence had revolved around getting to the bottom of it. An obsession like that doesn't just go away, even after the case is solved.

"Why would Henry give you this?" Iris whispered, staring at the files in confusion, "How does this help us save Barry? We solved the case. Barry moved on from this."

"Maybe he didn't," Cisco said quietly, "Maybe he never truly moved on from all of this, and it's somehow connected to what's going on with him now."

Iris frowned at him.

"How could it be connected?" she asked.

"I don't know," Cisco said seriously, "But Henry gave this to me for a reason."

"How do you know it was Henry?" Iris asked, looking towards the closet, "What exactly happened in there, Cisco?"

Cisco shook his head.

"I don't know," he said in a strained voice, "It was dark and cold. I was freaking out, and then I suddenly heard Henry's voice. All he said was 'save him,' and then the box was pressed into my hands."

"It must have still been in the closet," Iris said quietly.

She let out a heavy sigh then.

"Barry told me he made peace with his mother's death when he was in the speed force," she said sadly, "But then his dad died, and…"

"And he couldn't accept it," Cisco said quietly.

Iris nodded solemnly.

"I don't know how he ever could," she said, "But if he doesn't, it's going to eat him up inside. It would break my heart to see Barry's light flicker out."

Cisco nodded, frowning at the case files on the floor.

"We should go," he said then, "Caitlin said Barry was okay, but I won't feel better until I see him for myself."

Iris nodded and then returned the files and notes back into Barry's box, recovering it with its lid. To anyone else, it would look like a simple board game, but Iris knew the secrets it contained.

Adolescent Barry's secret obsession.

* * *

"I said it's fine," Barry said irritably, tired of Caitlin's pestering.

"Barry, you have to let me clean your cuts," Caitlin said desperately, "They could get infected, and some of them might even need stitches."

"I don't care," Barry said swatting her hand away, "I don't want to be here. I just want to go home."

Joe and Caitlin exchanged worried looks just as Cisco and Iris were walking into the med bay.

"Bar," Joe said, "I know you've been through a traumatic experience tonight, but you really need to let—"

"You don't know anything about what I've been through," Barry gritted, his eyes darkening, "You don't know what it was like there. All that time, in the dark. Time stops there. There is no time. No light. No sound. Nothing. It's like the bottom of the ocean, with no way out."

"You're out now, Barry," Joe said quietly, as Iris silently walked up to the bed to take Barry's hand.

"It's okay, Barry," she said tearfully, "We closed the circle. We blocked the…spirit out. She can't hurt you now."

"I know," he said flatly, "She's gone. I…I can feel it. It's over."

The others all smiled at him in relief. Barry, however, didn't smile. His face was blank.

"Can I go home now?" he asked.

"Barry," Caitlin said gently, "Your wounds."

"Leave them," Barry said, shaking his head, "It's fine. I…I need to feel them. I felt so numb in there…I need to feel real."

Caitlin nodded, not fully understanding what he meant, but trying to. He had been through a terrible ideal tonight. She understood his desire to go home.

* * *

Joe and Iris watched Barry worriedly as he walked into the house. He still seemed off, and they learned quickly not to touch him. He jumped at even the slightest touch and startled easily at loud noises. His anxiety was perfectly understandable, though. They knew what he had been through had been horrible, even if he hadn't told them what exactly happened in the Void. Tonight was definitely not the night to press him, though.

"Where have you all been?!" Wally asked hysterically when they came into the disheveled house, "I've been trying to call you for fifteen minutes! I came home to find the house destroyed and you guys _gone!_ I had half a mind to call the _police_! I thought you all had been abducted or something!"

"Sorry, Wally," Joe said, side-glancing at Barry who slowly moved to sit on the couch, "I forgot you'd be coming home from class by now. We didn't mean to worry you."

"What happened?" Wally asked seriously, now looking at Barry.

Joe looked at Barry, too. He was just sitting on the couch, a blank look in his eye as he stared at nothing. Joe sighed and gently pushed Wally back a few feet so they were standing in the dining room, where Barry wouldn't hear them.

"A lot's happened tonight, Wally," Joe whispered to him, "Barry's been through a lot."

Wally's eyes widened when he took a second look at Barry and saw the bruises and scratches on the side of his face.

"What did he do?" Wally whispered, a fearful look in his eye, "Dad, what did he do?"

"He tried to contact his mother," Joe said quietly, tears in his eyes.

Wally let out a frustrated sigh.

"I told him not to do that," he said angrily, "I told him it would draw all the others in, too."

"Listen, Wal," Joe said seriously, "Barry's been through enough tonight. He doesn't need to be scolded for it. Of course, he was going to try something like this. He thought it was his mother."

Wally's eyebrows furrowed.

"Thought?" he asked, "You mean it…?"

"It wasn't his mother," Joe whispered, "It never was. Whoever she was, she was messing with him. Using his love for his mother against him."

Wally looked sadly at Barry, who was still sitting on the couch, not even listening to them.

"That's sick," he said in disgust, "That's just cruel."

Joe nodded sadly in agreement.

"It attacked him," he said, "When Barry made contact…it attacked him, tried to pull him into the Void."

Wally frowned at him.

"Why?" he asked.

Joe shook his head in confusion.

"What do mean?" he asked.

"Why would a spirit want that?" Wally asked seriously, "Why would it want him to die?"

"Because she wanted Barry," Iris said, walking into the dining room.

The other two looked at her. Neither of them had even realized she had left until she was reentering the room.

"That's what she said," Iris told them, walking over to set something on the dining room table, "The spirit said she wanted Barry. She wanted him to come back to her—to _be_ with her."

Joe and Wally stared at her for a moment and then looked at the box she had set on the table.

"Iris, where'd you get that?" Joe asked quietly, his throat going dry as he looked at the old board game.

"It was in Barry's closet," Iris whispered, "Cisco and I found it."

He stared at it for a moment longer, tears filling his eyes.

"He kept it," Joe whispered, feeling sick to his stomach as he stared at the box.

It had led to so many fights with Barry.

"What _is_ it?" Wally asked.

Joe shook his head and wiped a tear from his eye. He moved towards the table then to lift the lid off the box. His heart clenched when he saw the newspaper clippings. The case files. The endless _notes_ scrawled in Barry's hand. Joe replaced the lid back onto the box, his heart aching.

"I'll explain it in a minute," he said softly to Wally, "We should probably get Barry to bed. He needs to rest and heal."

Wally and Iris nodded, Wally still having a confused look on his face.

"Barry," Joe said gently, crouching down next to Barry near the couch, "Barry, are you okay?"

Barry blinked and looked at Joe.

"I…I'm fine," he said shakily, "I'm just trying to process everything."

"I'm so sorry, Bar," Joe choked, "I know how much you wanted it to be your mother."

Barry nodded sadly.

"I should be happy, though," he said softly, taking them by surprise.

"Happy?" Iris asked.

Barry nodded.

"She wasn't there," he explained softly, "She wasn't in that terrible place. She's not in the dark. She's somewhere else, somewhere with my father. Somewhere better."

The others smiled sadly at him.

"I'm glad you see it that way, Bar," Joe said with a watery smile.

For the first time since getting home, Barry smiled. It was only a small twitch of his lips, but it was a smile.

"I think I'm going to go to bed now," he said then, "I'm exhausted."

Joe nodded.

"Good idea," he said, smiling at him, "Hopefully, you'll get a good night's sleep tonight."

Barry's lips twitched again.

"Hopefully."


	15. Moving Forward

**Moving Forward**

* * *

Joe stared at the box sitting on the dining room table. It was almost midnight, but Joe didn't feel even remotely tired. He ran a hand along the scratches on his arms—the scratches Barry had made.

He deserved them.

He deserved so much worse. He felt like he had failed Barry in every way. He had never believed him about his father growing up, and then Barry had forgiven him. After years of Joe telling him he was crazy, Barry forgave him so easily. Now, Joe had been given a second chance, a chance to believe in Barry this time.

And he had failed.

History had repeated itself, and Joe had made all the same mistakes. He had called Barry delusional. He broke Barry's heart a second time by not believing in him. And like last time, Barry forgave Joe almost instantly.

But Joe would never be able to forgive himself.

"Is someone going to tell me what's up with this box?" Wally asked, breaking the silence.

Joe took a deep breath and wiped the tears from his face.

"Barry's had it since he was a teenager," he told him, letting out a heavy sigh before continuing, "When he was sixteen, he came into the precinct to 'visit' me at work. I don't even remember what his excuse was to visit me. He stole his mother's case files when I wasn't looking. He made copies of them for himself, and I didn't even know about it…until I found this box."

Wally's eyebrows were furrowed as Joe explained. Iris stared blankly at the box on the table as she listened. She knew this story already. She had been there for the fight that had broken out afterwards.

"I was so angry," Joe choked, "When I found the case files he had stolen…I lost it. I had spent years trying to get Barry to let it go—to stop obsessing over the case. He never did, though. Even now…his mother's case may be closed now, but it isn't over for Barry. It's easy for us to forget sometimes that Barry spent over half his life obsessing over what happened to his mother. That doesn't just go away, even after the case is solved, and now that his father's gone…"

"He can't move on," Wally said quietly.

Joe nodded and wiped the wetness from his eyes.

Wally understood how Barry felt. Losing a parent was devastating. Wally had only lost one parent, though. Barry had lost _both_ , and while Wally's mother's death was certainly tragic, it had been peaceful. Barry had lost both his parents violently, and he had had to watch both times. He felt _responsible_. Wally didn't know how anyone could ever get past that—even someone as bright and optimistic as Barry.

"It's 11:52," Joe said, looking at his watch.

They all looked nervously at each other before glancing at the clock on the wall. Joe had just hung it back up, and he had returned all the photos of Barry back to their rightful places, making the house feel like home again.

They all stared at the minute hand on the clock, waiting for what felt like an eternity.

And then it moved.

"11:53," Iris breathed in relief.

They all smiled at each other.

"I'm going to go check on Barry," Joe said seriously.

His kids nodded at him, and Joe quickly disappeared up the stairs. Wally and Iris looked at each other then.

"It's strange," Wally sighed, "Hearing about all of this."

Iris gave him a questioning look.

"Barry," Wally elaborated, "He just…he always seems so _happy_. So put together. I guess I just assumed he was always some sort of golden child who never did anything wrong. Never fought with anyone, _especially_ my dad. They both seem so close. I knew Barry had tragedy in his past, but I never thought that carried into his life here with you guys."

Iris nodded sadly.

"It did," she said, "Barry had a rough high school experience. Bullies were the least of it. I think the biggest struggle he had was with my dad. They both love each other, but the way they used to fight…it's not something we really talk about now. We've tried to move past it. This whole thing has dug up all those old issues, though."

Wally shook his head.

"I don't know how he does it," he sighed, "I don't know how Barry acts so happy all the time, after all of that."

Iris gave him a sad smile.

"Barry _is_ happy," she said surely, before letting out a small sigh, "But he's also sad. He hides a lot of pain behind his smile, but that doesn't mean his smile isn't real."

Wally nodded thoughtfully as Joe returned to the dining room.

"He's sleeping soundly," he said happily, "No nightmares."

Iris let out a breath of relief.

"Thank God," she said, "I really think it might be over. I was scared it wasn't really going to end."

"I think he's going to be okay," Joe smiled, tears in his eyes, "Now he just needs time to heal…from _all_ of this."

Joe looked at the box on the table as he spoke, and the other two knew what he meant. This nightmare might be over, but Barry still had a lot of things weighing him down, things he needed to finally be free of.

He needed to move on.

* * *

"I'm sorry," Joe said into his phone, "I know it's inconvenient to have us both out for the day, but—"

"Joe," Singh said, cutting him off, "Don't worry about it. I'm just glad Barry's finally taking some time off to grieve. I know how grief works. Barry's been in the denial stage longer than most people are after losing someone so important. I've been waiting for it to catch up with him. I _understand_ , and I understand why you'd want to be there for him. He hasn't been looking well lately."

Joe let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank you, sir," he said seriously, "I really appreciate your understanding. This has been hitting Barry pretty hard these last couple days."

"The longer you delay the pain, the worse it is when you finally feel it," Singh said sadly, "Just tell Barry I hope he feels better and he can take off as much time as he needs."

"Thank you, David," Joe said gratefully, "I'll see you on Monday."

Joe sighed as he hung up the phone and pushed Barry's bedroom door open, silently poking his head inside to make sure Barry was still sleeping soundly. As soon as the door was open, Joe's blood ran cold.

Barry wasn't in his bed.

"Barry!" Joe called out in panic.

He rushed down the upstairs hallway, checking every room.

"Barry!"

Iris rushed out of her bedroom.

"What's wrong?" she asked fearfully, "What happened?"

"Barry's missing," Joe said urgently, rushing down the stairs.

He was just pulling out his phone to call STAR Labs when he heard a voice speak behind him.

"Morning."

Joe spun and saw Barry standing in the kitchen next to the stove, a cooking spatula in hand. The smile slid from Barry's face when he saw Joe's panicked expression.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Joe sighed in relief, and he heard Iris do the same from behind him.

"I thought you were gone," Joe said breathlessly, "What are you doing up? It's only six AM."

Barry shrugged and smiled.

"Early bird gets the worm," he said with a small laugh, "Pancakes?"

Joe and Iris stared at him. Last night, Barry had been practically catatonic. Now he was smiling and cooking breakfast like it was any other morning. The bruises on his face looked so much worse in the daylight, and they were darker now that they had had the night to set in. Joe was only just starting to notice the black eye forming on Barry's face. None of his injuries had healed yet because they weren't normal injuries. They were supernatural in origin.

Despite Barry's battered appearance, he was still smiling widely at them. It didn't even appear to be fake. He looked genuinely happy.

"How are you feeling?" Joe asked him, slowly moving to sit at the kitchen counter where Barry was cooking.

"I feel great," Barry said happily "I got the first full night's sleep I've had in what feels like years."

"No nightmares then?" Iris asked hopefully.

"Nope," Barry said, popping the p, "I'm perfectly fine."

Joe and Iris both smiled but exchanged an uneasy look.

"Bar," Joe said gently, "You know you don't have to go back to normal right away. You went through a lot these last couple weeks. It's okay to take this slowly."

"Guys, I really am fine," Barry insisted, still smiling at them.

When Joe and Iris gave him disbelieving looks, Barry continued.

"I'm _free_ ," Barry said happily, "It's finally over. I can put all this behind me now. I can move on."

Joe had the fight the urge to sigh. He couldn't say he wasn't a little frustrated. He thought Barry was finally done with this. He thought Barry was going to finally face his grief. Instead, Barry had gone straight back into his denial. It was exhausting. Barry had to know he wasn't fooling them. He had to know they saw right through him. Still, he kept up the charade.

"So I was thinking," Barry said, continuing as if they hadn't just been discussing his grief, "After breakfast, we should go for a hike."

"A hike?" Iris asked, taken aback by the suggestion.

"Yeah," Barry said with a shrug, "It'd be nice to get some fresh air. Some exercise."

Joe laughed lightly at that.

"I doubt a small hike is much exercise for the Flash," he said.

Barry's smile faltered slightly at these words.

"I guess," he said after a moment, forcing a small laugh, "Still, it'd be nice to get some fresh air."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Iris asked, furrowing her eyebrows, "You should probably be resting."

"She's right, Bar," Joe agreed, "You must be feeling sore. You should take the day off to just rest and heal."

"Guys," Barry said in a strained voice, no longer smiling, "I just…I really want to go outside today. I…I don't want to be in this house."

They both nodded sadly when they understood what Barry meant. Finally. Barry was being truthful about his feelings.

"That's perfectly understandable," Joe said supportively, "I get why you wouldn't want to be here after everything. We don't have to stay home all day. We could go to STAR Labs. Caitlin should probably check your injuries anyways, and—"

"No," Barry said, his eyes darkening, "I want to go outside."

Joe and Iris stared at him, surprised by his sudden icy tone. He had gone from cheery and bright to practically _glaring_ at them in an instant. The other two didn't know what to make of it. The look Barry gave them sent chills down their spines.

"O-okay, Bar," Joe said after a moment, "We'll go for a hike then."

Barry's face quickly morphed back into a grin then.

"Okay then," he said cheerfully, "Who wants the first pancake?"

Joe and Iris both gave each other an uneasy look out of the corners of their eyes.

* * *

Barry was moving forward relentlessly, showing no signs of tiring. Joe and Iris could barely keep up with him. They hadn't gone hiking very often in the past. None of them were particularly outdoorsy, living in a city and all. Of the three of them, Barry probably liked the outdoors the most, and that was simply because his dad used to take him hiking, fishing and camping when he was younger. Before getting his powers, though, Barry had always been awkward in the woods. If there was a rock in the path, you could always count on Barry to find it and trip over it. If there was a low hanging branch, Barry would be sure to walk right into it.

Iris and Joe had always got a good laugh out of it. Hiking had been a lot more fun then. It wasn't so much now.

Now, _they_ were the ones tripping over rocks and struggling through branches just to keep up with Barry. Wally was lucky he was in class, or he would be stumbling through a poorly marked trail in the middle of the woods like they were.

"How. Much. Farther," Iris breathed, "Are you planning to go, Barry?"

Barry turned his head to look back at her as he walked.

"Are you serious?" he asked, "We just started, Iris."

"We've been hiking for _two hours_ ," Iris said breathlessly, picking broken twigs out of her hair.

Barry didn't say anything. He just laughed and faced forward again, continuing down the path.

"Let him go a little longer," Joe said quietly to Iris, "I think he really needs this, and he seems to be enjoying himself."

She couldn't argue with him there. Barry seemed ecstatic about being outside. The smile hadn't left his face since they had started. They both figured it had to feel good for him, being outside after being in that dark place for hours. Barry's sudden desire to be outside still seemed a bit strange, though.

"Don't you find this a bit random?" Iris asked her dad, watching Barry hike ahead of them, forcing them to keep moving forward, "That Barry would just want to go for a hike out of the blue?"

"His dad used to take him here, Iris," Joe whispered sadly.

Iris's heart clenched.

"Oh," she said softly.

It made a lot more sense now. It wasn't just about being outside for him. Barry was coping, and while this seemed like a strange way to do it, it wasn't something she could really judge him for. Grief was strange that way.

Iris looked back up the path again then, eyes searching for Barry. He was out of sight already.

"Barry, you're getting too far ahead of us again!" she called in exasperation.

Barry didn't call back to her, though. He had said very little during their hike, mostly just walking and smiling at trees and the sky.

"Come on," Joe sighed, urging her to pick up the pace, "We should catch up to him. I don't like having him out of my sight."

Iris nodded her agreement and reluctantly picked up the pace to get the rest of the way up the hill they were climbing. She understood Barry wanting to go for a hike, but she didn't understand why he had to pick such an overgrown trail. There were perfectly good _marked_ trails they could have taken that would have been a lot more pleasant to walk on. Barry had insisted on this one, though.

As they finally made it to the top of the hill, Joe and Iris looked around, peering through the trees.

"Where is he?" Joe asked, a hint of worry working its way into his voice as he peered down the vacant path.

"Barry!" Iris called out, "Barry, you went _way_ too far this time!"

There was no reply back, though.

Joe and Iris both looked at each other in alarm for only a moment before they both broke out in a run, scrambling through the overgrown trail.

"Barry!" Joe boomed through the trees, "Barry, if you're messing with us, this isn't funny! Where are you?!"

They both paused on the path, listening. Barry didn't reply to them.

"Do you hear that?" Joe asked quietly.

"Hear what?" Iris asked, tears forming in her eyes.

"Nothing," Joe breathed, "There's no sound. Not even _birds_."

Now that they both thought of it, they hadn't heard a single bird the entire they had been walking. There were no normal forest sounds in the trees around them. It had been eerily quiet the entire time they were out here. Now that they weren't talking, they noticed it. The woods were silent.

Unnaturally silent.

"Barry!" Joe called out again in panic, making Iris jump slightly.

"Dad, we have to find him," she choked, "I really don't like this."

"Me neither," Joe said darkly.

The two of them started to rush through the woods again. They decided to keep to the trail, since that seemed to be their best bet at finding Barry. If he had taken off into a run, though, they stood no chance of catching up to him. They both had the same uneasy feeling, though. A feeling that Barry hadn't simply gotten too far ahead.

Barry had disappeared.


	16. The Clearing

**The Clearing**

* * *

"Dad, maybe we should call STAR Labs," Iris suggested shakily.

They both were past the point of panic. They had been searching for Barry for over an hour, and they had found no sign of him.

"We don't have signal," Joe reminded her.

They had already tried calling Barry's cellphone multiple times, but they had no service out in the middle of the woods. Their voices were hoarse from calling out to him for the last hour.

"Hang on," Joe said, coming to a halt on the path, "There."

He pointed to the side of the path they were on.

"I don't see anything.

"All the branches are broken," Joe said seriously.

Iris looked closer and saw that he was right.

"It could just be from a deer," she sighed.

"A six foot tall deer?" Joe said, pointing at the higher branches.

Iris looked at them, her heart leaping and filling with hope.

"Come on," her dad said, stepping off the path to follow the trail.

They both new it was risky—leaving the path—but as long as they kept track of where they were, they would hopefully be able to find their way back, and hopefully, Barry would be with them.

They tripped and stumbled their way through the brush, cursing as their clothes got snagged on branches and burdocks.

"Why the hell did Barry decide to go straight through a thicket?!" Joe cursed.

It was strange, like Barry had just decided to walk in a straight line off the path, trees and thorny bushes be damned. It was like he had just ignored all the obstacles, walking right through them like they weren't even there. They almost would have thought Barry had phased his way through it, if it weren't for the trail he had left behind.

And then, suddenly, it all stopped. The trees, bushes, plants—all of it ended and opened up into a clearing filled with nothing but tall grass. Joe and Iris stumbled out of the thick brush until they were standing on the edge of the clearing. And there, standing in the middle the expanse of tall grass, was a familiar figure.

"Barry," Joe sighed in relief, "Thank God we found you. We were so worried."

Barry looked up at Joe then, and the air caught in both of their lungs when they saw the look of anguish on Barry's face. His eyes were filled with tears, and there were tearstains etched down his face.

"S-sorry," Barry said softly, looking back down again.

That's when they noticed it. This wasn't just a clearing. There were other things occupying the large space. Hidden in the tall grass were multiple large stones, all bearing the same specific shape.

They were gravestones.

They were standing in a cemetery.

Barry was staring down at one of the gravestones with tears in his eyes.

"Barry, what are you doing here?" Iris asked shakily, "What is this place?"

"Greenfield Cemetery," Barry answered quietly, "It reached capacity in 1958 and the forest was planted around it in '62. It's been over fifty years now, so most people have forgotten about it."

"How'd you know it was out here?" Joe asked slowly, looking at the stones.

There were hundreds of them scattered throughout the tall grass. Most of them were covered in grass and moss, and a few small trees had even grown amongst the forgotten graves.

Barry looked up at him with watery eyes, and when he spoke, his voice was barely more than a whisper.

"I know these woods."

Joe and Iris stared at him, confused by the statement. Sure, Barry and his dad used to come out here and even camped sometimes, but no one ever came this far out into these woods. Joe had been here a few times in the past, and he had never heard of a cemetery being all the way out here. It seemed like far too big a coincidence that Barry would insist they go hiking today and then just stumble across an abandoned overgrown cemetery.

"Barry," Joe said in a strained voice, "Why did you—?"

"Can we go home now?" Barry asked abruptly, cutting Joe off, "I…I think I'm done hiking for today."

Joe wanted to press the issue. He wanted to know why Barry had dragged them all the way out here. He wanted to know why Barry was _crying_ now, when he had been laughing and joking around as they hiked all morning. But Joe decided not to press him. Barry looked like he was about to crumble and break down if he stayed here a minute longer.

"Okay," Joe said quickly, "Okay, Bar. We're leaving, alright?"

Barry nodded, looking at him with watering eyes.

It was a long hike back out of the woods. They had covered a lot of ground in what was supposed to be just a little hike. It took them over three hours just to get back to their car.

Barry didn't say a single word the entire time.

* * *

"And Barry didn't say why he went there?" Caitlin asked in confusion.

Joe, who had just recounted the strange morning in the woods to Cisco and Caitlin, shook his head.

"He barely said a word all day after that," he said, "He seemed spooked by something, but he won't talk about it when I press him."

"Well, I'd be spooked, too," Cisco said, "If I stumbled across some creepy cemetery in the middle of nowhere."

"I don't think Barry just stumbled across it," Iris said slowly.

"He knew it was there," Joe agreed, nodding seriously, "He knew the place. He knew the history of it and everything. It's not a coincidence we were out there this morning. Barry _wanted_ to go there."

"And then he wanted to leave as soon as we got there," Iris said quietly, remembering the haunted look on Barry's face.

"What was Barry doing?" Caitlin asked calmly, "When you found him in the clearing, what was he doing?"

"He was just staring at the gravestones, crying," Joe said sadly.

Cisco let out a heavy sigh.

"I just don't get it," he said seriously, "First, you say Barry's overly happy all morning, and then suddenly he's crying in a cemetery?"

"I don't know," Joe sighed, "It was in the woods Barry's dad used to take him to. Maybe all those memories combined with the death in the cemetery got to him."

"No," Caitlin said firmly, "I don't think it was accident that you were there. I think Barry knew exactly what he was doing when he took you guys out there. I just don't know _why_."

Joe nodded sadly.

"We'll have to talk to him," he said, "Get him to open up."

"We've both tried, though," Iris sighed, "He's not communicating."

"Then we'll just have to get through to him," Joe said firmly, "I'm not going to force it out of him like I've always tried to do. I'm going to _listen_ this time. I'm not going to make the same mistake again."

Try as he might to be a friendly ear to Barry, though, Barry didn't open up to Joe. He didn't open up to _anybody_. At least, not about the day in the woods. Barry wasn't _completely_ closing himself off, though. The day after the strange moment in the cemetery, Barry went right back to being overly cheery again. He cooked _a lot_ —way more than he ever did before. He ate meals with them and played games with them. He was always up for going out and doing things. In fact, he _insisted_ on leaving the house as much as possible.

Yet, he wouldn't return to work.

Most people would say Barry was taking advantage of the captain's offer to give him time off, but Joe knew better. Barry loved his job and wouldn't be skipping it for no reason. Every time he brought it up to Barry, though, Barry would dismiss him in some way or another. His excuses became more and more farfetched.

More than that, Barry wasn't going out as the Flash. He hadn't even put the suit on since this whole mess had ended. None of them fully understood why. Maybe Barry still had too much anxiety to be the Flash. Maybe he was just tired and needed a break. Whatever the reason, the city was starting to notice his absence, and what was really strange was the fact that Barry didn't seem to _care._ When a news report came on the TV, questioning where the Flash was, Barry didn't seem to give it a moment's notice.

No one pressed Barry about it, though. He had been through hell, and he had every right to take a break for a week to gather himself. His wounds healed fast, and emotionally, Barry seemed more than fine. While Joe wanted Barry to finally let himself grieve, he also couldn't bring himself to be disappointed that Barry wasn't sad. It was good to see him happy.

Regardless of Barry's absence from work and being the Flash, they were all hopeful that things were going back to normal. Barry was starting to seem like the bright, bubbly Barry Allen they knew and loved again.

There were moments, though.

Moments of unease. There were moments when Barry seemed almost unrecognizable to them. Some of them were minor, and some of them were downright unsettling. Many of these moments arose when one of them accidentally touched him. He nearly lost it one day when Cisco put his hand on his shoulder.

Barry instantly spun around and raised his fist, ready hit the other man.

Cisco flinched away immediately.

"Woah," Cisco said, putting his hands up, "Easy, man. It's just me."

Barry lowered his fist, but he didn't apologize like Cisco had been expecting him to.

"Don't. Touch. Me," Barry gritted, his eyes spewing pure venom.

Cisco backed up several paces in shock. Barry continued to glare at him with a level of loathing in his eyes Cisco had never seen before—in _any_ person. He knew it was just Barry, but it terrified him to his core.

And then Barry smiled, the darkness in his eyes vanishing instantly.

"GTA or COD tonight?" he asked pleasantly.

"W-what?" Cisco stuttered.

"That's 'Grand Theft Auto' or 'Call of—"

"I know what they stand for," Cisco said quickly, staring at Barry with wide eyes, "I mean…"

He stared at Barry, at a loss for words. Barry was simply standing there, a pleasant smile on his face as if nothing had just happened. Cisco didn't know why, but he found it pretty damn creepy.

"GTA," Cisco answered softly, his throat dry.

Barry's smile widened.

"Good call," he said, "I'll see you later tonight then."

And just like that, Barry walked out of the cortex, leaving behind a baffled Cisco.

* * *

Joe, Iris, and Wally kept exchanging significant looks with each other. The looks went completely unnoticed by Barry, of course. He seemed oblivious to the silent conversation being had around him. In fact, he seemed completely oblivious to _everything_ , including the game they were playing. He just kept spacing out, and none of them quite knew why.

"Barry," Joe said gently.

Barry didn't look at him, though. He continued staring at the Scrabble board in front of him, thinking. Joe cleared his throat.

" _Barry_ ," he said a little louder.

Barry blinked and finally looked at him then.

"Hmm?"

Joe and the other two gave him strange looks.

"It's your turn, you know," Joe said gently.

Barry's eyebrows furrowed as he looked at the board.

"Right," he said after a moment, "I was just thinking of a word."

Joe's confused look deepened.

"For ten minutes?" he asked quietly.

Barry let out an uneasy laugh as he started to lay some letters on the board.

"Sorry, I didn't realize I was taking so long," he chuckled.

"Are you okay?" Iris asked him gently, "You've been spacing out this whole game."

"I'm fine," Barry said immediately, "Sorry, I'm slowing up the game. I guess I'm just tired."

"Maybe you should go to bed," Joe suggested, looking worriedly at him, "You look exhausted."

It was true. Despite the fact Barry had been sleeping soundly now, he looked more exhausted than ever. The shadows under his eyes were the darkest they had ever been, and Barry never seemed to stop yawning.

"Yeah, I think I will," Barry decided after a moment, "Raincheck on the game? We can leave the board set up and just finish it another time?"

"Sure," Joe said, "That sounds fine. You go get some sleep, Bar."

Barry nodded and rose from his seat, swaying slightly. They all watched him worriedly as he crossed the room and lugged his way up the stairs.

"Something's not right with him," Joe said seriously once Barry was gone.

"He just said he was tired," Wally said dismissively.

"No," Joe said, "I can feel it. There's something wrong."

"Like what?" Wally asked curiously, "He seems fine to me."

"You don't know Barry like we do, Wally," Iris said seriously, "He's been acting strange all week. And you weren't there that day in the woods. The whole thing was just bizarre."

"Did he ever give an explanation for that?" Wally asked.

Joe and Iris both shook their heads.

"He dismisses us any time we try to talk to him about it," Joe said, "That, and the Void. He still won't talk about what happened to him there."

"I think there's a lot Barry's not telling us," Iris said quietly, "About the Void. Something happened to him in there. Something… _changed_ him."

"He still seems like the same guy to me," Wally said, furrowing his eyebrows.

"No, Iris is right," Joe said, "There's something different about him. Most of the time, he seems like himself, but there are other times…"

"I'm going to go talk to him," Iris said then, abruptly standing up.

"Are you sure now's the best time?" Joe asked her, "He seems pretty exhausted tonight. I'm not sure he's up for a serious chat right now."

"I know, but this is getting ridiculous," Iris said incredulously, "This is _Barry_ we're talking about here. We shouldn't have to play all these guessing games. It's about time he opens up to one of us and tells us what the hell is going on with him."

Joe nodded slowly.

"I guess you're right," he sighed, "And if anyone's going to be able to get him to open up, it's you."

Iris gave him a sad smile and nodded. Joe and Wally watched nervously as she climbed the stairs, determined to finally get some answers from Barry.

Iris tapped lightly on the door to Barry's room before timidly poking her head inside.

"Barry?" she asked quietly.

She opened the door a little further and stepped into the room. Barry wasn't in there. The light was on, but the room was empty.

"Can I help you?"

Iris jumped and spun around to find Barry standing behind her, a small smile on his face. Iris took a subtle step back from him, feeling just slightly uncomfortable from his intense gaze. She didn't know why she suddenly felt so tense. It was just Barry, and he was just standing there, smiling at her. So why was she suddenly so creeped out?

It took Iris a moment to give herself a small shake and clear her throat.

"I just came to talk to you," she said meekly.

The smile instantly slid from Barry's face, and he let out a heavy sigh.

"I told you guys," he said in exasperation, "I'm fine."

He moved to sit on the bed then, and Iris quickly followed, sitting down next to him as she spoke.

"You don't seem fine," she said gently, "There's been something really off about you this last week."

Barry frowned at her.

"Like what?" he asked seriously.

"I don't know," Iris said, shaking her head, "But we're really worried about you. You've been so jumpy lately, and—"

"You'd be jumpy too, Iris," Barry cut her off impatiently, "If you had just spent years in a dark endless pit filled with the dead."

Iris swallowed.

"Years?" she whispered.

Barry closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.

"I didn't mean to say that," he sighed, opening his eyes to look at her in anguish.

"What do you mean?" she asked seriously, "What do you mean you spent _years_ there? You were only there for a few hours, Barry."

Barry sighed and shook his head.

"Time…moves differently there," he said darkly, "It stands still. I may have only been gone for a few hours, but to me…it felt a lot longer."

"It felt like years," Iris whispered, her eyes going wide, "Oh, my God. Barry."

Barry just shook his head.

"It doesn't matter," he said quickly, "It's over now."

"Barry, it _does_ matter," Iris said in a strained voice, "I…I'm so sorry, Bar."

"It's not your fault," Barry said firmly, "It's not anyone's fault. I was lost there. I was just lost for a little while, and that's my fault. It's okay, though. I found a way back. Everything's fine now."

Iris shook her head, her eyes filling with tears.

"Barry, what happened to you?" she choked, "In the Void…what happened there?"

Barry's eyes darkened.

"Nothing I want to discuss," he whispered.

"Please," Iris entreated, "Please, just tell me. Let me in."

"I don't know what to tell you, Iris," Barry said in frustration, "It wasn't a place where good things happened. I thought I was going to lose my mind. I _did_ lose my mind, several times over, so if I seem a bit strange to you and Joe…"

"I can't even imagine," Iris choked, wiping her eyes, "Spending _years_ in that place…I can't even imagine the mental toll that would have."

"I'm fine now," Barry assured her, "I'm _happy_. I made it out. I get to _live_ again, in _this_ world. I don't want to dwell on it anymore."

Iris nodded tearfully. At least Barry was trying to move on. He had every right to be a little messed up from the experience, and she couldn't judge him too harshly for it. Some things still didn't quite add up, though.

"What about the woods?" Iris asked quietly, "The cemetery?"

Barry's eyes suddenly darkened.

"I think you'd all do best to forget about that day," Barry said flatly, " _I_ have. We need to move on and let it go."

Iris shook her head stubbornly.

"There's something you're not telling us, Barry," she pressed, "I'm not letting you dodge the question anymore. I came in here to get answers, and I'm not leaving this room until—"

"I SAID LET IT GO!" Barry screamed suddenly, causing the words to die in Iris's throat.

Iris stared at him with wide eyes, but Barry quickly stood up and grabbed her arms, pulling her towards the door.

"I'VE MOVED ON, AND ALL I ASK IS THAT YOU DO TOO!" he shouted in her face.

He pushed her forcefully out of the room. Iris spun around and looked at him in shock. Barry glared lividly at her for a moment before speaking in a shaky voice.

"Goodbye, Iris," he gritted, before slamming the door in her face.

Iris stood there, stunned for a moment. She gripped her wrists then, hissing in pain as she did so. They were going to bruise. Barry had never done anything like that before. He had never blown up at her before, and he certainly had never laid a hand on her. In that one moment, he was so far from the sweet, gentle, loving Barry Allen she knew. The look of pure venom in his eyes was foreign to her.

What had happened to him?

Iris slowly walked to her old bedroom with tears in her eyes. She wanted to go downstairs to tell Wally and her dad what had just happened, but she was too upset. By the time she made it to her bedroom, her breath was hitching uncontrollably. She closed the door behind her and then sank to the floor, her back leaning against the door. Iris pulled her knees to her chest and let out a strangled sob.

She had thought this was over. She had thought everything would be fine now. Barry was back, and he was safe. But it wasn't fine. Barry had changed. Whatever had happened to him in the Void had changed him. She couldn't blame Barry for that. She couldn't blame him for being damaged.

 _Years_ in the dark.

Iris looked up with bleary eyes when she heard a small tap on the floor, like the sound of something falling from her dresser in the corner. She stared with wide eyes as something rolled towards her across the hardwood floor. The small, golden ring suddenly rolled to a stop right in front of her, spinning a few times before tipping on its side. Iris stared at it. She reached a shaky hand out, picking the small ring up with trembling fingers.

Her mother's wedding ring.

* * *

 **Last semester, I had to make a movie trailer for a final project. I loosely based it off this fic. It's linked in my profile if anyone cares to see it.**


	17. Reflection

**Reflection**

* * *

Joe could tell something was up. Iris had been quiet ever since she had gone to talk to Barry a few nights ago. When he asked her about it, she didn't say much, just that Barry was still coping with what happened to him in the Void. Barry hadn't told her any details, though, and she hadn't gotten answers about that day in the woods with him. Iris had been acting strange ever since, though. She was jumpy and nervous, not unlike how Barry had been when this whole thing had first started. And like Barry, she wasn't talking about it.

Barry, on the other hand, seemed perfectly fine. Joe sat at the counter, silently watching Barry bake with a thoughtful look on his face. Barry seemed perfectly content, a small smile on his face. He even whistled as he kneaded the dough he had set out on the counter.

"You've been cooking a lot lately," Joe observed quietly.

Barry looked up at him, as if just realizing he was there. A small smile formed on his face.

"Technically, this is _baking_ ," he corrected with a small laugh, "Not cooking."

Joe's lips twitched, but then he continued to frown at Barry.

"What's with all the pies lately?" he asked gently, "This is the third pie this week."

Barry simply shrugged.

"You got a thing against pie?" he teased.

Joe chuckled.

"No, but my waistline certainly does," he joked, "You keep making these baked goods, and I'm going to blow up like a balloon."

Barry laughed and went back to silently kneading the dough in his hands. Joe watched him thoughtfully. He had never seen Barry bake like this. For one thing, they usually just bought premade dough. They never made anything from scratch. For another thing, Barry had always sucked at baking. He burned almost everything. Baking just wasn't his forte, and Joe didn't understand why Barry suddenly seemed to be auditioning to be the next Betty Crocker.

It was probably a coping tactic. Just like going to the woods had been something that reminded Barry of his father, baking pies reminded him of his mother. It had been many years ago, but Joe still remembered Nora Allen's baked goods being some of the best in the neighborhood. Every barbeque, every block party, they could always count on Nora Allen to bring the best desserts.

Joe didn't know if this was just Barry's way of mourning or if it had something to do with the Void. Or maybe it was a combination of the two. Joe was struck by a sudden thought then.

"Barry," he said slowly.

"Hmm?" Barry asked without looking up at Joe.

Joe opened and closed his mouth a few times, searching for the right words. Barry looked up at him then when he didn't answer.

"What is it, Joe?" he asked curiously.

Joe took a deep breath.

"Barry, were…?" he said in a strained voice, "Were your parents…in the Void with you? Did you see them when you were there?"

Barry's hands that were still kneading the dough suddenly stopped moving. He stared blankly at Joe for a moment before looking down again, resuming his work with the pie crust.

"No," he said softly, still looking down.

Joe watched him with furrowed eyebrows. The two of them didn't speak again, and a few minutes of silence stretched out between them before Joe decided to continue.

"Bar, what happened with Iris?" he asked quietly.

"What do you mean?" Barry asked, still not looking at him.

"She can barely look at you, Bar," Joe said seriously, "She's been jumpy and nervous since she talked to you the other night. What happened?"

"I don't know," Barry said blankly, looking up at Joe, "I don't know what's going on with her. She's been acting strange."

Joe stared at Barry with a thoughtful look on his face. There was no emotion in his voice. He said the words monotonously, like a script.

"Strange," Joe echoed quietly.

Joe then stood up and walked out of the room without another word. He returned a few minutes later, a box in his hands. He set it on the counter, and Barry looked curiously at it.

"Cisco found this in your closet," Joe said quietly.

Barry stared at the box with furrowed eyebrows.

"Did he?" he whispered.

Joe waited for Barry to say something else, but he didn't. He simply stared at the box with a blank look on his face. Joe sighed heavily before lifting the lid on the box, pulling out several newspapers and files.

"I'm not mad that you kept it," Joe assured him quickly as he set the files on the counter.

Barry stared at the papers with a strange, unreadable expression on his face.

"You were right, Barry," Joe said in a strained voice, "You were right all along about your dad, and I'll never be able to tell you how sorry I am for not believing you. I don't blame you for keeping this. I know how hard it is to move on."

Barry nodded silently, still staring at the files on the counter.

"But you _need_ to move on, Bar," Joe choked, tears filling his eyes, "You need to finally let this go. You need to let the past stay in the past and finally make peace with all of this."

"You're right," Barry whispered.

Joe stared at him in shock.

"You're right," Barry repeated flatly, "I need to move on. I'm the one who's still alive. I need to live my life and let the past go."

Joe smiled and nodded at Barry. He was taking this so much better than he had expected him to. Without another word, Barry suddenly scooped up the case files and returned them to the box before putting the lid back on it. He picked the box up and moved towards the door.

"What are you doing?" Joe asked curiously.

Barry didn't say anything. He opened the back door and stepped outside. Joe quickly moved to follow him, and by the time he got out there, Barry was already lighting a match. Joe watched with wide eyes as Barry stooped down next to the fire pit and lit the box on fire without hesitation. Just like that. Barry destroyed the files. He had spent years hunting down all that information, hours and hours writing meticulous notes on the case.

And just like that, he burned it all.

Barry stood up and looked down at the box, watching it burn with a blank look on his face. When the entire thing was fully engulfed by the flames, Barry turned to Joe.

"It's done," he said flatly before walking back into the house.

Joe heard the door close behind him, but he didn't follow. He just stood there, watching the box burn in shock. He didn't know what he had been expecting from Barry, but it certainly hadn't been _that_.

* * *

Wally jolted awake in an instant. He didn't know what had awoken him, but that question was answered when he heard an earsplitting crash from downstairs. In an instant, Wally tore back the covers over him and jumped out of bed. He rushed out of his bedroom and ran headlong into his father in the hallway, where they were quickly met by Iris, who had been sleeping there for the last two weeks since Barry had been home.

"What was that?" she asked shakily.

"I don't know," their father said seriously, "You two stay here."

He rushed down the stairs then, gun in hand. Wally and Iris both looked at each other.

"We're not seriously going to stay here, are we?" Wally asked seriously.

"Hell no," Iris replied, and with that, the two of them rushed down the stairs after their father.

Their dad rolled his eyes when they joined him in the living room. He had turned the light on, but there didn't appear to be anyone there. Joe kept his gun drawn as he moved further into the room. All three of them gasped when they rounded the couch and saw the mess on the floor.

The photo frames.

"Oh, God," Joe sighed as he looked at the mess of glass on the floor.

"Dad," Iris said seriously, eyes fixed on something else.

Wally and Joe both looked at her to see she was staring at the wall with wide eyes. They both followed her gaze, and their blood ran cold when they saw the words scratched into the drywall.

I'M STILL HERE

"It's not over," Wally said in anguish.

Joe stared at the wall for a moment or two before giving himself a small shake.

"We need to clean this up," he said seriously, "We can't let Barry see this."

Wally and Iris both nodded their agreement.

"Why didn't he wake up?" Wally asked, "That crash was loud enough to wake all of _us_ up, so…"

"I'm going to go check on him," Joe said seriously.

The other two nodded. After he had disappeared up the stairs, Iris and Wally set to work, cleaning the mess up.

"I can't believe this is still happening," Wally said shakily as they picked up the photos.

Barry was in every one of them.

"I can," Iris said quietly.

Wally gave her a confused look.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

Iris let out a heavy sigh before reaching into her shirt to pull at the thin chain around her neck. She held out the chain, displaying the small ring that was hanging from it.

"Are the ghosts into jewelry now?" Wally asked in confusion.

Iris shook her head and took a deep breath.

"It was mom's," she said quietly, "Her wedding band—or a replica, at least."

Wally furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"I still don't understand," he said.

Iris tucked the ring back under her shirt and let out a heavy sigh.

"It fell off my dresser the other night," she said shakily, "I…I thought it was just a coincidence. I thought it was just in my head, but now…"

"You think _mom_ is haunting you?" Wally asked seriously.

Iris shook her head.

"I don't know," she said in a strained voice.

"Iris," Wally said seriously, "Barry thought it was _his_ mom before, and then it turned out it wasn't."

"I know," Iris choked, "I know that, but…It felt different."

"What do you mean?" Wally asked.

Iris shook her head.

"Whatever was haunting Barry before, I felt it. I _spoke_ to it," she said, "This felt…different. I felt a presence in the room, but it wasn't the same presence. It didn't feel malicious. I didn't feel any of the same hate or pain from it like last time. I just felt…love. Nothing but love."

"Iris," Wally said seriously, "That's what Barry said about it, too. He thought it was his mother because he _wanted_ it to be his mother. This spirit…it plays mind games with people."

"I know," Iris said in anguish, "I know that."

Wally let out a heavy sigh.

"So, you think it's after _you_ now?" he asked seriously.

Iris shook her head.

"I don't know," she said in a strained voice, "Why did it knock down the photos of _Barry_ again? Why would she go after me when she made it clear that _Barry's_ the one she wants?"

"I don't know," Wally said softly, "Maybe she sees you as…competition?"

Iris's eyebrows furrowed.

"You and Barry have a connection," Wally said with a shrug, "I know you two aren't dating, but…"

"But we love each other," Iris said simply, her voice growing sad, "I've just been giving Barry more time. He needs time to grieve."

Wally nodded sadly.

"And you're the one who said goodbye," he said seriously, "You're the one who closed the circle, who stopped the spirit from getting closer to Barry."

Iris nodded seriously.

"She's still trying to get to him," she whispered.

Wally and Iris both stared seriously at each other for a moment before their father rushed back down the stairs.

"He's still sleeping soundly," he said, "No nightmares or _anything_."

"That's a relief," Iris sighed.

"Come on," Joe sighed, "Let's get this cleaned up and go back to bed. We can figure this out in the morning."

* * *

They kept everything hidden from Barry. They returned all the photos to their rightful places, hiding the ones that were broken in the closet. They would just have to hope that Barry wouldn't notice their absence. Joe covered the writing on the wall with a large painting he found in the basement. It was outdated and didn't quite fit the living room décor, but Barry didn't spend much time in there nowadays anyways. He spent most of his time in the kitchen.

They all did their best to act normal around Barry. It was strange. Before, it seemed like _Barry_ was the one who was trying to act too normal around them, and now it was the other way around. They didn't want to worry Barry. He was clearly still messed up from whatever had happened to him in the Void, and they didn't want to make him worse by letting him know strange things were happening in the house again.

Barry was far from okay, though. He seemed normal most of the time, but anyone who looked at him could tell he was _not_ okay. Even though Barry was sleeping soundly every night, he looked exhausted most of the time. He had dark circles under his eyes, and he even looked like he was losing weight. His face had a more gaunt appearance to it now, and he almost looked…sick.

They all kept urging him to go see Caitlin, but Barry refused. He even got irrationally angry every time they suggested it. They figured it was stress. They would have been more worried if there had been bruises, but there were none. Barry didn't have a mark on him. After healing from his attack a few weeks ago, he hadn't gotten a single new bruise.

Not so much as a scratch.

They didn't know what was going on with the spirit now. Something had changed. Maybe it really _was_ after Iris instead. She wasn't having nightmares, though. In fact, all her dreams had been pleasant—and sad, at the same time. She often dreamed of what life had been like before, when Barry was still himself. They all had similar dreams about Barry, and it made all of them equally sad when they woke up to a reality with a damaged Barry who didn't seem like himself anymore.

Iris distracted herself from everything by cleaning. The same way Barry had taken up baking, Iris was turning to house chores to distract herself. The house was spotless because of it. All except for Barry's room. She never went in there now. The room gave her an uneasy feeling. That was where she had first heard the voice in the closet. That was where she and Cisco had found the planchette and closed the circle. The room gave her the chills now every time she set foot in it.

Eventually, the dust had built up so much that she couldn't ignore it anymore. She went into Barry's room. The first thing Iris noticed upon entering the room was that all the blinds were closed. Barry always used to keep them open before, but now he had them closed for some reason. Iris crossed the room to open them and let some light in the room.

As soon as the blinds were open, however, Iris saw the state of the windows behind them. They were all cracked. Every window had longs cracks running through it like spider webs. Iris reached out and touched the cracked glass, staring at it with wide eyes. An unnatural chill ran through her when her hand touched the cold glass, and Iris yanked her hand back. She took a deep breath and turned away from the window, eyes scanning over the rest of the room.

Now that there was daylight filtering into the room, Iris saw the sheets. All the mirrors in the room had been covered with large white sheets. Her heart racing, Iris slowly walked toward the mirror on Barry's dresser. She closed her hand around the fabric covering it. Taking a deep breath, Iris quickly yanked the sheet off the mirror.

She sucked in a strangled gasp.

The mirror was shattered, just like the windows. Every reflective surface in the room had been shattered and then covered by Barry. Did _he_ break them? Or something else?

Iris suddenly saw movement in one of the broken mirror fragments. She gasped and spun around, but there was no one behind her.

Iris quickly recovered the mirror with a sick feeling in her gut. Before, she would have just thought she had imagined it, but now she knew better.

Something was in the room with her.

That wasn't why she felt sick, though. She felt sick because something was in this room with _Barry_. All this time, it had been in here. It had never really left.

And Barry knew it.

Barry knew the spirit was still here. He had covered the mirrors himself. Iris's heart sank when her eyes landed on Barry's old record player. The record was sitting on top of it, in pieces. Barry had destroyed it. Iris glanced over to Barry's bookshelf. The snow globe he normally kept there was now gone, and she wondered somberly if Barry had destroyed that as well.

They had both been his mother's, and Barry had been forced to destroy them. Iris knew Barry. He only would have done that if he was desperate—if he had no other choice. Barry was running. He was trying to get away from this thing—away from _her_. She was still tormenting him, and Barry had been trying to hide it, to deny it.

"Barry," Iris whispered brokenly as she stared at the covered mirrors, "Why didn't you just _tell_ us?"


	18. Greenfield

**Greenfield**

* * *

"I don't know if we should confront him or not," Joe said seriously, "He doesn't respond well to our questions."

"This is getting ridiculous, though," Wally said in frustration, " _We_ know that it's not over. _Barry_ knows that it's not over. Why are we not all just sitting down discussing this? Why are we all trying to deny it instead of looking for a solution?!"

"Wally's right," Iris said seriously, "We've all been avoiding the issue long enough. Barry clearly knows the spirit is still here. He's been hiding it from us the same way we tried to hide it from _him_. Why are we all still tiptoeing around each other?"

"Because Barry's hiding something else," Joe said darkly, "There's more going on here than we know. Barry knows things that he's not telling us, and he must have a good reason for keeping it from us."

"Maybe he just doesn't trust us," Iris whispered.

Joe looked down at the living room floor in guilt.

"No, dad," Iris said quickly, "I don't mean just you. I meant _all_ of us."

"But I'm the reason," Joe said softly, "I'm the reason Barry doesn't feel like he can open up to us. Last time, he tried to tell us what was happening to him, and I didn't listen."

"No, dad," Wally said seriously, "You were right before. Barry must have another reason for not telling us what's going on. We need to figure it out ourselves. He's not going to tell us anything, and it's probably best that we keep what we know between us for now, until we know more."

"I don't like this," Iris said shakily, "I don't like sneaking around, not trusting Barry. I just wish he'd _talk_ to us."

"He scares me," Joe said quietly.

Wally and Iris both stared at him, surprised by the sudden statement.

"Barry scares me now," Joe admitted again, "There's something about him that makes me feel…uneasy. There's something very _wrong_ with him."

Wally and Iris didn't say anything. They couldn't disagree with him. Barry was downright _creepy_ sometimes, and it killed them to be afraid of him, but they couldn't help but agree with their father. Something was very wrong with Barry. The three of them all stared down at the coffee table between them, and a few moments passed without any of them saying a word.

"Guys," Wally said suddenly, his eyes going wide.

They both looked at him, but Wally was staring at the table. Their Scrabble game from last week was still set up there. They had never finished it, and the game had just sat there, collecting dust.

"Look at the words," Wally whispered.

Joe and Iris both slid on the couch so they could look closer at the board, particularly at the words Barry had laid down.

"Trapped," Iris whispered, reading the letters, "Dark. Empty. Death."

"Family," Wally read quietly, "Secret. Deception."

"Help," Joe whispered, his eyes filling with tears.

The three of them all looked at each other.

"Barry kept spacing out during the game," Iris recalled, "He could have been laying the words subconsciously."

"But what does it mean?" Wally asked, staring at the board in thought.

"It means Barry's in trouble," Joe said darkly, "He just doesn't know how to tell us."

"We need to _do_ something," Iris said tearfully, "Barry may not be letting us in, but he needs us."

Joe and Wally nodded seriously.

"I think I might know someone who can help us," Wally said quietly.

Iris and Joe stared at him curiously.

"An old friend of my mom's," he explained, "She can help us."

"A _psychic_ ," Joe said bitterly, his expression souring.

"A medium," Wally corrected gently, "And I know what you're thinking. I used to despise them, too. Mom wasted so much of our money on bogus psychics and ghost whisperers when I was growing up. I know how you feel, dad. But this woman really is the real deal. She can help us."

Joe let out a heavy sigh.

"Okay then," he said quietly, "Get a hold of her."

"I'll find her," Wally said surely, standing up from the couch, "I'll have to drive to Keystone. She changed addresses, but I'm sure I'll be able to track her down."

Joe and Iris nodded seriously, and Wally moved toward the door. Before he got to it, though, the door suddenly opened, causing all of them to tense.

"Hey!" Barry said brightly as he walked in through the door, grocery bags in hand, "Are you heading somewhere? I was just going to make scones for everyone."

Wally looked back at Joe and Iris, giving them an uneasy look.

"Actually, Barry," he said quickly, trying to keep his voice normal, "I was going to go to Keystone to hang out with some friends tonight. I haven't seen them in ages."

"Oh," Barry said, a hint of disappointment in his voice, "Okay, then. I'll be sure to save you some."

Barry was smiling widely at him, but Wally could see how rough Barry looked now. His face was gaunt and the shadows under his eyes looked like they were never going to go away. He looked like walking death. Walking, smiling death.

"Okay, Bar," Wally said, giving him a forced smile, "You do that."

After Wally left, Barry turned to Joe and Iris.

"You're going to love these," Barry said happily, "Mom's old recipe."

"Actually, Bar," Joe said calmly, "We were just going to head to STAR Labs for a few hours."

Iris gave him a questioning look but didn't say anything. Barry looked disappointed.

"Are you sure?" he asked, "They're blueberry."

"Sorry, Bar," Joe said, standing up from the couch.

Iris followed suit.

"We just need to help Cisco and Caitlin with something," he said vaguely, "A metahuman thing. They need my detective skills and Iris's reporter skills to get to the bottom of it."

In the past, Barry would have insisted on helping, himself, but he hadn't done that in a while. He didn't even bat an eyelash.

"Alright," he shrugged, "I'll just bake alone then. Have fun with your metaperson."

As Barry disappeared into the kitchen, Joe and Iris shared an uneasy look.

"Let's go," Joe said quietly to her, his expression serious.

Iris nodded and the two of them quickly left the house.

"Are we really going to STAR Labs?" Iris asked as they got in the car.

"We sure are," Joe said seriously, "Put on your seatbelt."

Iris rolled her eyes and complied.

"What are we going to do?" she asked as her father started to pull out of the driveway.

"While Wally goes to Keystone to get help, I'm not going to just sit here and do nothing," he answered seriously, "We're going to see if Cisco and Caitlin can help us get to the bottom of all this."

"Well, why are we _both_ going?" Iris asked seriously, "Maybe I should have stayed home with Barry. Someone should keep an eye on him."

"Because I don't want to leave you alone with him," Joe said darkly.

Iris glanced out her window as they pulled out of the driveway. With a jolt, she saw that Barry was standing in the living room window, watching them. The smile that had been on his face a moment ago was now gone. He stared intensely at them through the window, a dark expression occupying his features. Iris shuddered as the car made its way down the street.

"Good idea," she said quietly.

If she was being truthful, she hadn't been comfortable with being alone with Barry for quite a while now.

* * *

"Please tell me again," Cisco said breathlessly, "Why exactly are we doing this?"

Joe paused in his tracks to take another drink from his water bottle.

"Because the day after Barry came back from the Void, he led us out here," he answered.

Cisco leaned up again a tree in the path, catching his breath.

"But what exactly are you expecting to find?" he asked, "I already looked up Greenfield Cemetery. There's nothing strange about it. It reached capacity in—"

"—in 1958 and then the forest was planted around it," Joe finished for him, "Yeah, I know. Barry led us out here for a reason, though. He wanted to go to that cemetery specifically. We're here to figure out why."

Joe looked around the overgrown trail carefully.

"It was somewhere around here," he said quietly.

"How do you know?" Cisco asked, "I don't exactly see any trail markers out here. I'm pretty sure this isn't even an official trail anymore."

"Because I don't hear any birds," Joe said quietly, peering through the silent trees.

A chill ran through Cisco as they listened to the silent woods around them. There was something really unnatural about it.

"It was somewhere around here," Joe said, "I just need to find where the turnoff was."

Just then, Joe saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He put a hand on Cisco's shoulder and peered down the trail. A figure had been moving through the trees.

"Did you see that?" Joe whispered.

"Hell, yeah, I saw that," Cisco squeaked, "And that's my cue to book it the hell outa here."

"Cisco," Joe snapped, "Stay calm. This is why we're out here."

Joe slowly started to move towards the spot where he had seen the figure, but it was gone now.

"Oh, sure," Cisco said nervously, "Let's just follow the mysterious ghost figure in the middle of a creepy-ass woods. Cause that's what normal people would do."

Joe ignored him as he moved down the trail to the spot where the figure had disappeared.

"This is it," he said quietly, staring at a place in the trail.

Some of the branches were still broken, but it was hard to see. It had been a few weeks since they had been here, and most of the brush had grown back.

"We're not seriously going to _follow_ it, though, right?" Cisco asked nervously, his tone no longer joking, "Seriously, Joe. I don't think we should do it if it's what it wants. It _wants_ us to follow it, and that's exactly why we shouldn't."

"I'm not just going to turn back," Joe snapped, "We came all the way out here for a reason, Cisco. We're here to help Barry. We're here to get answers."

"Okay, look," Cisco said quickly, "I have a better idea. Why don't we just give Barry a good ol' smack on the head and tell him to cut it out with all his creepiness. Then we can all go to Jitters and sit down to talk it out over a nice cup of coffee, like _normal_ people."

Joe snorted but didn't say anything. He started to step off the path, leading the way through the thicket he, Iris, and Barry had passed through two weeks ago. A small whine escaped Cisco's lips, but he begrudgingly followed.

"Haven't you ever seen The Blair Witch Project, Joe?" he groaned as they fought through the branches and brush, "It's always the two idiots who leave the trail to follow a ghost that get killed."

"We're almost there," Joe assured him as Cisco tripped over another branch and cursed.

Finally, the two of them stumbled their way into a familiar clearing. Cisco impatiently started pulling all the burdocks from his clothes, but Joe ignored his grumbling as he stepped further into the clearing, looking around. There was no one there—no signs of life amongst the silent gravestones. It had the appropriate feel for a cemetery. The silence and death in the air hung heavily over the open space. Joe didn't waste time looking around for too long. He quickly crossed the clearing and made his way over to the place Barry had been standing when they had found him here a few weeks ago.

Joe paused in front of the headstone Barry had been looking at, and he soon felt Cisco standing at his side in front of it.

"Barry was standing here when we found him," Joe said quietly, "He was crying and staring at this grave specifically."

Cisco bent down and brushed his hand over the stone, clearing away the vines and moss that had grown on it until the name on the stone was visible.

"Marilyn Ophelia Macht," Joe whispered.

"Beloved daughter and friend," Cisco read, "Born 1929, died 1952."

Joe and Cisco both looked at each other.

"Who the hell is Marilyn Macht?" Cisco asked quietly.

They both spun around when they heard a twig break in the woods behind them. They both peered through the trees surrounding the clearing but didn't see anything. The woods were growing dark around them as the sun was starting to set.

"We should get out of here," Joe said seriously to Cisco.

Cisco nodded nervously, still looking into the trees.

"Hell, yes," he whispered.

* * *

Iris drummed her fingers nervously on the desk in the cortex. She felt so useless, just sitting here. It didn't feel right, leaving Barry at the house alone right now. They hadn't been leaving him alone lately, for obvious reasons. Still, Iris wasn't exactly disappointed to not be with Barry right now. It broke her heart, being afraid of him. She loved Barry and just wanted to help him, but right now, he scared the hell out of her. She kept thinking back to when Barry had been standing in the window, watching them leave.

He knew something was going on.

Iris didn't like the look in his eye. He had never looked less like Barry Allen to her. Whatever was happening to him, it was taking him away from her. She felt like she was losing him.

"How much longer do you think they'll be gone?" Caitlin asked nervously, "It's getting dark outside."

"It's a long hike," Iris sighed, "It took us a good three hours just to get back to the car last time. Assuming nothing went wrong, they should be back any minute now."

Caitlin sighed and resumed her pacing, twisting her fingers nervously.

"Caitlin, everything's going to be okay," Iris assured her, "We'll get to the bottom of this."

Caitlin sat down next to her with a heavy sigh.

"I know," she said softly, "I guess I'm just feeling…guilty."

Iris gave her a confused look.

"I'm his doctor," Caitlin said, looking down at her lap, "I should have been the first to know there was something wrong with him."

"Barry hasn't been letting you examine him," Iris said immediately, "He's been holding all of us at arms length. There's nothing you could have done."

"I know," Caitlin sighed, "I just…feel bad. Barry looks so awful now. I feel like I'm failing."

"I think we _all_ feel that way right now," Iris sighed.

"We found it!" Cisco shouted, causing them to jump as the two men suddenly entered the room, "We found the grave!"

"Do you know whose it is?" Iris asked seriously, standing up from her chair.

Her father nodded, and Cisco quickly plopped down in the chair Iris had just vacated.

"Marylin Ophelia Macht," Cisco answered, typing frantically on the keyboard, no doubt searching the name, "By the way, when this is over, Barry owes me a new pair of shoes."

The other three ignored his comment and crowded behind him as he searched the name on his computer.

"Got it," he said almost immediately, "This is the obit for Marylin Macht."

They all looked at the screen, scanning over the woman's obituary from 1952.

"She was beautiful," Iris whispered, looking at the picture in the newspaper article.

Pictured was a young woman of only twenty-three. She had dark hair that was pinned up in a retro 50's updo. It was sad to be reading an obituary for someone who died so young. None of them knew what it was supposed to mean, though.

"How did she die?" Joe asked quietly.

"The obit doesn't say," Cisco said slowly, reading over the article, "It mostly just talks about her life. College student, unmarried, all that. All it says about her death is that she died unexpectedly."

Cisco started to do another search to find out more. Not much came up in the results. He found only one other newspaper article from that year involving Marylin Macht.

Purse Snatching Incident Takes a Tragic Turn

"It says she was robbed and shot outside D&D's Diner on a Wednesday afternoon," Cisco said, scanning the article, "She died on scene before the paramedics could get there."

"That's horrible," Caitlin whispered.

"So we're all thinking the same thing, right?" Joe asked seriously, "This woman has to be the one who's tormenting Barry."

The others all nodded.

"Yeah, it seems likely," Caitlin said quietly, "It can't be a coincidence that he would go to her gravesite unless she was the one doing this."

"Her obituary only talks about what a lovely person she was, though," Cisco said seriously, shaking his head, "If she was such a nice person, why would she be going after Barry like this?"

"Barry said the Void messes with your head," Iris said quietly, "He said it makes you lose your mind. Just look at how much it's damaged _him_. This woman has been there since 1952, and Barry said time stops there, making days stretch out into _years_. I think it's safe to say she's not the same person after that."

"It's sad," Joe whispered.

They all looked at him.

"I just mean…" he said, "Maybe that's why Barry was crying when he saw her grave. Maybe he just wants to help her."

"Maybe," Iris whispered.

"Guys," Cisco said suddenly, staring at the screen with wide eyes, "Look at the picture with the article."

The all looked at the black and white photo. It was a morbid image. The photo had been taken outside the diner where she had been shot. A body bag laid on the ground next to an ambulance. Pedestrians crowded the surrounding sidewalk, watching the paramedics get ready to load the body into the waiting vehicle.

"What is it?" Caitlin asked Cisco, furrowing her eyebrows as she looked at the photo.

"Look at the people in the crowd," Cisco whispered.

They all scanned the photo, looking at the spectators standing in the background. Their eyes all landed on a familiar face.

"Is that…?!" Iris gasped.

"Barry," Cisco said quietly, "In 1952."


	19. Say My Name

**Say My Name**

* * *

"What the hell is Barry doing in a photo from 1952?!" Joe asked in shock.

They all stared at the image, completely dumbfounded. Barry was standing there, clear as day. He was watching along with everyone else as the paramedics got ready to take the woman's body away, a look of anguish on his face.

"It might not be him," Cisco suggested, "Didn't you guys once say Barry had a grandfather on his mom's side who looked just like him?"

Joe quickly shook his head.

"Barry's family lived in Port Washington until 1968," he said, "They weren't even in Central City at that time."

"Besides," Caitlin said, "That would be one hell of a coincidence. This _has_ to be Barry in the photo."

"Barry's never travelled back that far in time, though," Cisco said, "He's never time travelled outside his own lifespan."

"Maybe he did but didn't tell us about it," Iris suggested.

"Or he hasn't done it yet," Caitlin said thoughtfully, "Maybe this is a future version of Barry. Maybe at some point in the future, Barry will travel back to that year."

" _Why_ , though?" Joe asked, "Why would Barry do that?"

"I don't know," Caitlin whispered.

"Barry was crying over her grave," Joe said seriously, "Maybe he eventually goes back in time to try to save her."

"What are you implying?" Cisco asked, "Are we saying Barry's _in love_ with her or something? Because that would be seriously messed up."

"I don't see how he could be," Caitlin said, "After all that she's done to him."

"Then why was he crying over her grave?" Joe asked quietly.

"Woah," Cisco chuckled, "Tough blow, Iris. You're competing with a _dead_ woman."

Iris stared blankly at Cisco.

"Right," he said awkwardly, "Not funny. Sorry, this stuff is just seriously freaking me out. Jokes are the only thing that help."

Iris just shook her head.

"None of this makes sense," she said, "Every time we try to get answers, we only get more questions. I'm tired of this. We just need to talk to Barry, get him to finally open up to us."

"Yeah, but that hasn't been working out so well for us," Joe sighed, "Barry isn't going to let us in, Iris."

"Maybe he just doesn't know how to tell us," she said desperately, "Maybe he just doesn't want to burden us with it, but if we tell him what we already know, maybe then he'll explain it to us. Maybe then he'll know he doesn't have to hide it from us."

Joe shook his head sadly at her.

"I don't think Barry's ever going to truly open up to me again," he said hopelessly, "He doesn't trust me now."

"Then _I'll_ go," Iris insisted, "I'll go and try again. I'm his oldest friend. He'll open up to me eventually. I just have to wear him down. I know how to handle Barry."

Joe shook his head stubbornly.

"I don't want you going alone," he said, "I don't want to worry about him _and_ you."

"What do you think Barry's going to do to me, dad?" Iris asked in exasperation, "He's _Barry_. He wouldn't hurt me."

Iris ran a hand on her wrist as she spoke, not looking her father in the eye. Joe stared at her for a moment before letting out a heavy sigh.

"Fine," he said reluctantly, "Go try to talk to him. I'll be home in a half hour. Wally texted me that he's bringing the psychic, medium—whatever she is—to STAR Labs. Once they get here, we'll join you at the house."

"Okay," Iris nodded, turning to leave.

"Iris," Joe called behind her, "Be careful. Don't press him too much. Just try to keep Barry calm until we get there. He's not going to be happy when we bring the medium over."

Iris nodded and then left the room. Joe sighed and leaned up against the desk after she had left.

"I really don't like this," he muttered.

"It's going to be fine, Joe," Caitlin assured him, "If anyone can get through to Barry, Iris can."

Joe shook his head.

"I just want this to be over," he said, "I can't take much more of this. I just want my family back to how it was before."

"We all want things to go back to normal," Cisco said, "Barry does, too. He just needs help getting there."

Joe nodded.

"I'm scared for him," he said quietly, "I'm so scared for Barry right now."

"And you should be," a voice said from the doorway.

They all turned around to see a woman entering the room, followed closely by Wally.

"Your friend is in serious danger," she said gravely.

Wally stepped forward then.

"Guys, this is Elinor Crane," he introduced them in a hurried voice.

He turned and looked at Joe then.

"This is a lot more serious than we thought," he said darkly.

* * *

By the time Iris pulled up to the house, the sun had fully set and it was dark outside. As she parked the car and got out of the vehicle, Iris noticed there was no light filtering out through the windows of the house. She approached the front door nervously. This was ridiculous, though. It was just Barry. She didn't have anything to fear from him. He was going through a hard time right now, but he was still her Barry. She could get through to him.

When Iris opened the front door and walked into the house, she quickly realized _all_ the lights were off. The entire house was pitch black.

"Barry?" she called hesitantly into the darkness.

There was no answer, only silence.

Iris stumbled her way across the room, reaching for the light switch with an outstretched hand. She walked blindly through the room, feeling for the wall that should be somewhere in front of her. Iris gasped and jerked her hand back when she felt something cold close around her wrist.

"B-Barry?" she asked shakily, clutching her hand to her chest.

There was no answer, though. Iris stood there in the dark, her heart racing as she listened to the silence around her. It took her a moment to hear it. A soft breathing sound coming from behind her. Iris bolted. She stumbled frantically through the dark living room until she reached the wall where she knew the light switch was. Her breathing was ragged and panicked as she felt along the wall, trying to find the switch.

" _Iris_ ," a voice whispered.

Iris's heart clenched. It was Barry's voice. She quickly felt along the wall, letting out a breath of relief when she flipped on the switch and spun around.

"Barry, what are you…?"

She turned to find no one standing behind her.

"…doing?" she whispered.

Her eyes scanned the room, and a moment later, they landed on the figure sitting on the couch in the room. Barry was just sitting there, his back to her, as he sat on the couch.

"Barry?" she asked shakily, "Why are you sitting in the dark?"

He didn't answer her, though. Barry continued to just sit there, unmoving.

"Barry?"

* * *

They all looked back and forth between Wally and the woman.

"Is someone going to explain?" Joe asked impatiently, "What do you mean Barry's in danger?"

"Has your friend been acting strange?" Elinor asked, stepping forward, "Has he been blacking out? Acting differently?"

They all frowned at her.

"He's been acting strange," Joe answered her, "But I don't know about blacking out."

"Has he been spacing out, though?" she pressed, "Losing track of conversations? Acting distant?"

"Yes," Joe answered, "What's wrong with him?"

Elinor held up a hand before asking another question.

"Is he getting sick?" she asked gravely, "Losing weight? Headaches? Nosebleeds?"

"I don't know about headaches and nosebleeds," Joe said, "But he has an ill look about him now, yes."

Elinor nodded thoughtfully.

"What is it?" Caitlin asked urgently, "What's wrong with Barry?"

Elinor shook her head.

"He isn't Barry," she said, "Not the Barry you know."

"What do you mean?" Joe asked quietly.

"He's possessed, dad," Wally said seriously.

They all stared at him.

"What?" Caitlin whispered.

"Barry's possessed," Wally repeated, "He has been this entire time."

"But…he hasn't been _completely_ different," Joe said in a strained voice, "He still _acts_ like Barry most of the time."

"He still has your Barry's memories," Elinor explained, "But Barry's not there. He's not the one in control. The spirit is."

"Hold up," Cisco said, "You're telling me this entire time, Barry's really been _her_?"

He pointed to the computer screen.

"He's Marilyn," Joe whispered, "The person we've been living with…hasn't been Barry."

Elinor nodded seriously.

"Your friend's spirit is trapped somewhere else," she explained, "He's trapped in another world. It's not a place meant for the living."

"The Void," Cisco said with wide eyes, "Barry's still there."

She furrowed her eyebrows at him.

"The Void?" she asked.

"It's what we call it," Cisco said quickly, "My name. You're welcome to use it, though."

"Barry's been there before," Caitlin explained, "He was trapped there for a few days, and then all of this started shortly after that."

"Your friend is a traveler," Elinor said, her eyes widening, "He can astroproject himself into other dimensions while he sleeps or meditates."

They all looked at each other, knowing that wasn't quite right.

"Yeah, sure," Cisco said slowly, "Let's go with that."

They didn't exactly want to explain to her that Barry was a speedster who could run to other dimensions whenever he wanted.

"Your friend is incredibly gifted," Elinor said in awe, "I've never met a true traveler in my work. It's an extremely rare gift."

"Yeah, Barry's a special guy," Cisco said impatiently, "So, can you help us?"

Elinor gave herself a small shake.

"I think so," she said, "This is complicated, though. I've never dealt with something like this before."

"You can bring him back, though, right?" Caitlin asked tearfully, "You can bring Barry back?"

Elinor nodded hesitantly.

"It depends," she said slowly.

"On what?" Joe demanded.

"On how strong the spirit that's possessing him is," she said, "How strong is their connection? Did Barry know her before she died?"

They all looked unsurely at each other, thinking of the photo.

"It's unclear," Joe said simply, "I think it's safe to say they weren't close, though."

Elinor nodded.

"She must have clung to his spirit when he went into the Void," she said.

They all looked at her in confusion.

"Barry said there were others there," Joe told her, "He said there were a lot of spirits there."

Elinor nodded.

"Many of the dead occupy the Void," she said seriously, "Your friend, Barry, must haven't gotten close to one of them."

"She said she wanted Barry to come back to her," Cisco said seriously, "She wanted him to go back there, so she could be with him."

Elinor shook her head.

"Are you sure that's what she wanted?" she asked skeptically.

"She said she wanted Barry," Cisco nodded, "She wants Barry for herself."

Elinor shook her head.

"You misunderstood," she said seriously, "The spirit, _Marylin_ , doesn't want Barry—at least, not in the way you think."

"What do you mean?" Wally whispered.

"The spirit doesn't want to be with Barry," Elinor said darkly, "She wants to _be_ Barry."

They all stared at her with wide eyes.

"She wants his body," Joe breathed, understanding now, "His life."

Elinor nodded.

"The dead crave life," she said seriously, "They _cling_ to it. That's what they all really want—to _live_ again. This spirit latched itself to Barry. She got close to him, _followed_ him. She followed him back into this world and then tried to lure him back to her own."

"Using his mother," Joe whispered.

"She was luring Barry away from his own body," Elinor said seriously, "Away from his _life_. Wally told me you used a Ouija board to try to make contact."

They all nodded seriously.

Elinor let out a heavy sigh.

"You shouldn't have done that," she chastised, "It invites the spirits in."

"That's what I said," Wally muttered.

Elinor shook her head at them.

"Your friend, Barry, was already vulnerable by that point," she said seriously, "By opening a circle, you made it all too easy for the spirit to take advantage."

"Okay," Cisco said impatiently, "We get it. I'll take full responsibility for this one. I'm the one who urged Barry to play it. That was my bad. I'll take the blame for this one, guys. So, can we please stop pointing fingers and figure out how to get Barry back now?"

Elinor nodded.

"Of course," she said, "The spirit isn't going to give up his body easily, though. She's going to be angry. It'll be difficult to get cast her out of the vessel, and it'll be equally difficult to get Barry back _into_ it. From what Wally tells me, this spirit is violent. She's angry and will do anything to keep living."

Joe sucked in a sharp breath. They all looked at him.

"Iris," he said in anguish, "She's with Barry now!"

* * *

"Barry?" Iris asked shakily, "Please say something because you're really starting to freak me out right now."

She slowly rounded the couch, and Barry's face came into view. He was staring straight ahead at the fireplace, a blank look on his face.

"Oh, my God!" Iris gasped when she saw the blood on his face, "What happened?!"

She knelt down next to him for a closer look. Barry's nose was bleeding. When Iris cupped his cheek, Barry blinked, his eyes refocusing on her.

"Iris," he whispered.

"Barry, what happened?" Iris asked again, "Why are you _bleeding_?!"

"I don't know," Barry muttered, "I…I spaced out. The lights went out on me, and I just…I don't know. I sat here. I was too afraid to move."

Iris felt her heart clench. She wondered how long he had been sitting here in the dark, too afraid to go turn on the light. It had to have been horrible for him.

"It's still happening, isn't it?" Iris asked tearfully, "She's still tormenting you."

Barry looked down at the floor.

"It's okay, Barry," Iris urged, "You can tell me."

Barry looked up at her with teary eyes. He stared at her for a moment with a torn look on his face before nodding slowly.

"Yes," he whispered, "It's still here. I've been trying to ignore hi—her, but she's still trying to come back."

"Oh, Barry," Iris choked, heartbroken for him, "It's going to be okay."

She wrapped her arms around him. Barry tensed slightly, but then he sank into the hug.

"It's going to be okay," Iris repeated, cradling the back of his head, running her fingers through his hair.

When she pulled away, Iris looked down at her hand in confusion. There were clumps of brown hair between her fingers. Barry's hair was falling out. She looked up at Barry when he suddenly started coughing uncontrollably. Iris quickly grabbed the box of tissues from the end table next to the couch and offered them to him. He nodded gratefully and took the box from her as he continued to cough. When he pulled the tissue away from his mouth, Iris got a glimpse of the drops of crimson speckled on the tissue.

"Barry," she whispered in shock.

"I don't know what's happening to me," Barry cried, "I feel like I'm falling apart from the inside."

The tears in Iris's eyes brimmed over, trailing long lines down her face.

"It's okay, Barry. We're going to help you."

"I need to be free of it," Barry sobbed, "I need him gone, so I can finally move on with my life."

Iris gave Barry a confused look.

"Him?" she asked.

"Her," he said quickly, " _It_. Whatever it is, you need to help me get rid of it."

"I will," Iris assured him, "We'll make sure she never bothers you again, Bar. It's going to be okay."

Barry nodded and wiped his eyes.

"I'm going to go get cleaned up," he said shakily.

Iris nodded silently, and Barry quickly got up from the couch and made his way to the bathroom. When Iris heard the door close, she let out a heavy sigh. Barry was so much worse than she had thought. She knew he had been keepings thing from them, but she didn't realize how much he had been going through this whole time without out telling them.

Iris looked down at the gameboard on the table, staring at the words with a deep ache in her heart.

 _Dark. Death. Family. Help. Secret. Deception. Trapped. Imposter._

Iris stared at the last word on the board, the one she hadn't noticed before. In fact, she was _certain_ it hadn't been there before.

Imposter.

What was that supposed to mean? There were so many things Iris didn't understand. What was the spirit trying to do? What did it want from them? Well, _that_ she knew. The spirit wanted Barry. She wanted Barry for herself. That's why she was slowly killing him. She was making Barry sick. Iris felt like she was losing him. She felt like she had already lost him—like Barry was already gone.

Iris jumped when the picture her father had hung on the wall last week suddenly fell to the floor, revealing the words that had been carved into the wall beneath it.

I'M STILL HERE

Iris stood up from the couch, eyes wide as she stared at the words. _I'm still here_. Her hand went up to the chain around her neck, her fingers closing around her mother's ring—the ring _Barry_ had given her. She thought back to that night, when she had first tried to talk to Barry about all of this and he had all but thrown her from his room.

 _Goodbye, Iris._

He hadn't said goodnight to her. He had said _goodbye_. And then the ring…the ring from _Barry,_ not just her mother…the presence in the room…the pure _love_ she had felt from it. It wasn't the same spirit. It was the spirit of someone she knew. Someone she loved.

Iris's heart pounded painfully in her chest as she stood there in the living room, her mind racing, piecing everything together. She jumped when her phone suddenly started to ring. Iris scrambled with shaky fingers to pull the phone out of her pocket, but she dropped it when she heard a voice come from the doorway.

"Something wrong?" Barry asked her.

Iris spun and stared at him with wide eyes.

"N-no," she stammered, "Everything's fine, Barry."

Barry gave her a curious look, and then his eyes flitted to the wall behind her, staring at the words carved into it. Barry let out a heavy sigh and then moved over to the other side of the room to pick up the picture frame. Iris stood, frozen in place, as she watched him return the frame to the wall.

"Joe needs to learn how to plaster drywall," he said calmly, turning around to look at her, "It hides things better."

Iris gaped at him.

"You knew about it," she whispered.

Barry let out a humorless laugh that didn't sound like him at all.

"It was pretty obvious," he said seriously, no longer laughing.

He stepped closer to her then, and Iris felt her heartrate pick up. The room had gone silent now that her phone had stopped ringing.

"I know you know, Iris," Barry said calmly, stepping closer to her.

"W-what?" Iris whispered.

Barry let out another humorless laugh.

"It's written all over your face," he said darkly, "You know."

Iris stopped breathing, paralyzed by fear as Barry came to a stop in front of her. His dark eyes peered into hers as he slowly stooped down to grab her cellphone off the couch where she had dropped it. Tears formed in Iris's eyes as she watched him pocket it.

"Say my name," Barry whispered to her in a deadly calm voice.

Iris opened and closed her mouth a couple times.

"SAY MY NAME!" he roared, causing Iris to sob and a few tears to escape her eyes.

"Marylin," she choked.

Barry smiled at her, revealing bloody teeth.

"That's right," he whispered.

And then he lunged at her.

* * *

"Iris isn't answering her phone," Joe said frantically as he drove.

"I'm sure she's fine, dad," Wally assured him, "Barry doesn't even know we're onto him. He was calm when we left the house, and Iris doesn't know he's really Marylin. As long as she doesn't do anything to upset him, she should be fine."

"We don't know that!" Joe said hysterically, his hands tightening on the steering wheel, "If everything's fine, then why isn't she answering?!"

"She and 'Barry' are probably just talking it out right now," Wally assured him, "Everything's fine. The others are right behind us, and once we get there, Bar— _Marylin_ will be outnumbered. We've got this under control."

Joe took a deep, shaky breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm himself. He had a terrible feeling though, the same feeling he had the day Iris's appendix burst.

Something was wrong.

* * *

Iris let out a piercing scream that was quickly snuffed out when Barry put his hands around her throat, tackling her onto the floor. She scratched and clawed at his hands, gasping for breath, but Barry held her down, climbing on top of her.

" _Goodbye, bitch_ ," Barry gritted as he choked the life out of her.

Iris's vision was just starting to blur when suddenly, everything went black. At first, she thought she was dead, but then she felt the hands leave her throat, and Barry screamed. The lights had gone out again, and he— _she_ was afraid of the dark. Iris used the opportunity to kick Barry in the stomach. He grunted and shifted back, and Iris was finally able to get out from underneath him.

Iris scrambled to get away from him, coughing and gasping for air as tears streamed down her face. She couldn't see anything in the pitch black house, though. She tried to run for the door, but Barry had circled around the couch. His fingers suddenly painfully gripped her shoulders, holding her in place. Iris's leg flew up to knee Barry in the groin. He sucked in a pained breath and released her. She ran the other way then, making her way into the kitchen. Unfortunately, Barry recovered quickly from her kick and stumbled through the house after her.

Once Iris made it into the kitchen, she slid into the corner, trying to make herself as small as possible so Barry wouldn't find her. She heard him enter the kitchen and pause. She couldn't see him, but she could hear him. He was standing between her and the back door, listening for her.

"Oh, Iris," Barry taunted, walking slowly through the kitchen, "I know you're in here. _I can hear you breathing."_

Iris clasped a hand over her mouth as tears streamed down her face. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be Barry. This _wasn't_ Barry.

It wasn't Barry. It wasn't Barry.

Iris suddenly heard the sharp sound of a blade being pulled from the knife rack on the counter.

"You know," Barry said calmly, slowly walking through the kitchen, "I always thought my sixty-four years in the Void were a curse, but I did get one thing from it."

Iris held her breath as she listened to the silent kitchen. She didn't know where Barry was.

" _I can see in the dark_ ," a voice whispered from right next to her.

Iris let out a blood-curdling scream when a pair of hands grabbed her.

* * *

When they pulled up in the driveway, they saw that all the lights were out in the house.

"That can't be a good sign," Cisco said as they were getting out of their cars.

And then they heard the ear-splitting scream issue from inside the house.

"Okay, that _definitely_ can't be a good sign," Cisco said.

"Iris!" Joe shouted, rushing into the house.

He threw the front door open and rushed inside, gun drawn. He didn't know what he was going to do, though. He wasn't going to _shoot Barry_!

Joe scrambled through the house with his work flashlight in one hand, gun in the other. He quickly made his way to the kitchen where the screams and crashes were coming from. Pans and dishes were scattered all over the kitchen floor. Joe quickly rounded the kitchen island to find two figures fighting with each other on tile floor. Barry was on top of Iris, a knife in hand. She had her hands on his arm, preventing him from bringing the knife down on her.

"Drop your weapon!" Joe screamed at Barry.

Barry turned his head to look at him, but he didn't drop the blade in his hand.

"It's over!" Joe shouted at him, "Drop the knife and get the hell away from my daughter, you bitch!"

Barry turned back to Iris again, looking down at her.

" _Goodbye_ ," he gritted, raising the knife.

"NOOO!" Joe screamed.

BANG

Barry toppled off Iris and hit the floor with a thud. Joe gasped and shakily lowered his now smoking gun. What had he done?

Iris let out a strangled sob as she maneuvered herself out from under Barry. She pulled herself forward along the kitchen floor, away from Barry's limp form. Joe stared at Barry with tears in his eyes. He wasn't moving.

"What did I do?" Joe whispered.

"Joe," Cisco whispered from behind him.

The others were all standing there behind Joe, looking down at the kitchen floor, where Joe was shakily shining his flashlight.

"What did I do?" he choked again.

And then Barry moved. Joe sucked in a breath of relief, but that feeling quickly faded when Barry lunged for Iris again. He just kept coming after her.

"No!" Iris shouted furiously.

WHAM

Iris swung a frying pan out at Barry, making contact with his face with a sickening crack. Barry fell back against the cupboard in shock. Before he could recover from the blow, Iris brought the pan to his face again, striking a second time, and then a third.

"Iris!" Joe shouted, running forward to pull the iron pan from her grasp, "That's enough!"

Iris dropped the pan with a sob, turning to her father to wrap her shaky arms around him.

"It's okay," Joe soothed, holding her tightly, "It's okay. You're safe."

"Dad," she sobbed into his shoulder, "It's not Barry. It's not—"

"I know, Iris," he said calmly, "I know."

The lights in the house all suddenly went on at once, illuminating the small kitchen and the gory scene next to them. Barry laid unconscious on the floor, his face a bloody mess. Joe kept his hand on the back of Iris's head as he held her, preventing her from seeing. A pool of blood was spreading on the floor beneath Barry from the gunshot wound in his shoulder.

"Caitlin," he choked, looking to the doctor.

Caitlin immediately rushed in to stoop down next to Barry.

"He's breathing," she whispered.

"Thank God," Joe sighed in relief.

He didn't know what they would have done if Iris had killed him.

"His nose is broken," Caitlin said needlessly.

Anyone who even glanced at Barry could have told you _that_. His whole _face_ looked broken, smashed in with three blows from a frying pan.

When Iris finally turned and looked at what she had done, she broke into a fresh fit of sobs.

"Oh, my God," she cried, reaching out to touch his face, "Barry, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

"It's not Barry, Iris," Wally assured her, "You were just protecting yourself. He was going to kill you."

"He's right, Iris," Joe said seriously, "He's not Barry."

He wrapped his arms around his daughter again to comfort her.

"But he will be," he said surely, "We're going to bring Barry home."


	20. I'll Be Seeing You

**This is the final chapter of this story. It may not be as popular as my other stories, but I've had a blast writing it! Please be sure to leave a final review!**

* * *

 **I'll Be Seeing You**

* * *

"I told you all he needed was a good smack on the head," Cisco said, "We just had to whack the creepiness out of him."

They all shot him serious looks.

"Too soon for jokes?" Cisco asked quietly.

Joe let out a heavy sigh and turned back to look at Barry. He was laying in a bed in the med bay, his wrists restrained to the bed frame. His face was battered to the point where it looked grotesque. If Barry didn't have superhealing, Joe would be certain he would never look the same way again. At this point, though, that may actually be the case. Barry was gravely sick, and his healing didn't seem to be doing anything for him now.

"He's dying," Elinor said sadly from the corner of the room, "She's killing him."

"Why?" Joe choked, brushing a few tears from his face, "I thought she wanted to _be_ him, not kill him."

"She _does_ want to be him," Elinor said calmly, "She wants to live. Unfortunately for her, though, it doesn't work that way. She's not meant to be here. Her dead soul is killing his body. It's deteriorating…breaking down."

"Are you saying he's _rotting_?!" Wally asked, a repulsed look on his face.

Elinor nodded.

"In so many words, yes," she said softly, "He's decomposing alive. The dead soul occupying his body is rotting it from the inside out."

Caitlin let out a shaky sigh as she removed the stethoscope from Barry's chest, hanging it around her neck.

"She's right," she said quietly to all of them, "Barry's body is starting to shut down. His kidneys are already failing. The rest of his organs will soon follow. The kidneys tend to go first before everything else."

"How do we save him?" Iris whispered.

She was sitting on the far side of the room, away from Barry's bed. She could hardly look at him—partly because of what he had tried to do to her but mostly because of what _she_ had done to _him_. Iris couldn't even look at Barry's face now without being hit by a fresh onslaught of tears.

"We need to get Barry back," Elinor said simply, "We need to get a living soul back into his body before he doesn't have a body to come back _to_."

"Okay, but how do we do that?" Wally asked impatiently, "You say it like it's so simple."

"Oh, it's far from simple," Elinor said seriously, "First, we must cast the dead spirit from his body. She's weaker, now that she's unconscious, but it's not easy ripping an unwilling soul from a living body. She's going to fight us."

"And then?" Joe asked quietly.

"And then we try to get Barry back," she said simply.

"What do you mean 'try?'" Iris whispered.

Elinor shook her head.

"There are no guarantees when it comes to these things," she said gravely, "Where Barry is…it's like an _ocean_. All we can do is cast him a life raft, shine a light on it, and hope for the best. The rest is up to Barry."

"It's up to Barry?" Caitlin said, raising her eyebrows.

Elinor nodded.

"You should know," she said seriously, "This is extremely risky. Barry might not be the one to climb onto the life raft. Someone or some _thing_ else might assume the vessel."

"Well, I don't see why it's risky to try it," Wally shrugged, "Someone else already _is_ using Barry's body. It can't exactly get _worse_ , can it?"

Elinor nodded seriously.

"There are far worse things that could be occupying your friend's body right now," she said darkly.

They all shuddered.

"Okay," Cisco said seriously, "So, how do we stop another ghost or a…a _demon_ from taking up valuable real estate in Barry's body?"

Elinor shook her head.

"There are a few protection spells I can do," she sighed, "But there's always that risk."

"Spells?" Joe said skeptically, "Like…witchcraft?"

Elinor nodded, and Joe made a face, doing very little to hide his skepticism. He had always been against this sort of stuff.

"This isn't exactly my area of expertise, but yes," Elinor said simply, "I suppose you could say it's kind of like witchcraft."

"Wait," Caitlin said seriously, "You've never done this before?"

"Of course not," Elinor said obviously, "This isn't exactly _common_ in my work. Most people come to me when they _want_ to contact the dead. Actual hauntings are extremely rare, and possessions are practically unheard of. Most cases are really the result of dissociative identity disorder or schizophrenia. Their psychological, not supernatural. Your friend, though…this is more than multiple personalities. I can feel it. It's a true case of spiritual possession."

They all nodded their agreement. Barry was extremely messed up right now, but he wasn't crazy. Through _all_ of this, he had never been crazy.

After reinforcing the restraints on Barry's limbs, they all stood around the bed, looking down at him—all except for one person.

"Iris," Joe said softly.

Iris just shook her head.

"I can't, dad," she sobbed, "I can't do this."

"The more people we have, the stronger we'll be," Elinor urged.

"Iris," Joe said somberly, "Barry needs you. He needs _all_ of us."

Iris looked back in forth between her father's pleading expression and Barry, lying on the bed.

"Okay," she whispered.

She stood up from her seat and timidly moved to stand next to her father at Barry's bedside. Tears filled her eyes when she saw Barry's bruised, bandaged face. She would never look at him the same way again.

"Okay," Elinor said softly, "I'm going to start now. No matter what happens, do _not_ break the circle. Hold your ground. The spirit is going to fight, but she can't do anything to us. We have the power now. The incantation will weaken her, but it won't fully exorcize her until it's complete."

They all nodded seriously and held hands, Joe and Caitlin reaching over Barry at the head of the bed, while Elinor stood at the foot of it. A chill ran through all of them when Elinor started to recite the Latin incantation.

" _Regna terrae, cantata Deo, psallite Cernunnos,_

 _Regna terrae, cantata Dea psallite Aradia._

 _Caeli Deus, Deus terrae,_

 _Humiliter majestati gloriae tuae supplicamus._ "

They all gasped when Barry's body suddenly lurched in the bed, his eyes still closed. They all looked around at each other in shock. Joe was particularly in awe. He hadn't fully been expecting anything to happen, yet Barry had responded to the words. They were having an effect.

 _"_ _Ut ab omni infernalium spirituum potestate,_

 _Laqueo, and deceptione nequitia,_

 _Omnis fallaciae, libera nos, dominates."_

Barry lurched again at her words, this time sucking in a ragged breath. The others felt a small pulse gently push them away from the bed. Their eyes widened in shock, but they didn't break the circle. They kept their hands firmly grasped together.

" _Exorcizamus you omnis immundus spiritus_

 _Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incurs—"_

Elinor was cut off suddenly when a loud scream issued from Barry's mouth. They all stared down at him with wide eyes as it continued, stretching out into a long, agonizing scream.

"… _incursio,"_ Elinor persisted, continuing the incantation after the scream had subsided.

 _"_ _Infernalis adversarii, omnis legio,_

 _Omnis and congregatio secta diabolica._

 _Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, dominates."_

Barry screamed again, but Elinor didn't stop this time. She kept reciting the words, shouting over his screams.

 _"_ _Ut coven tuam secura tibi libertate servire facias,_

 _Te rogamus, audi nos!_

 _Ut inimicos sanctae circulae humiliare digneris,"_

Barry's eyes suddenly snapped open. They all gasped. His eyes were pitch black as he gazed up at them.

"I'll kill you," he gritted, "I'll kill all of you! I've been _dying_ to. Every night, I've wanted to kill you all in your sleep."

They all looked up from his eyes, doing their best to his ignore his threat and the way it made them feel to hear those words being issued from Barry's mouth.

 _"_ _Te rogamus, audi nos!_

 _Terribilis Deus Sanctuario suo,"_

"Please!" Barry screamed, tears streaming down his face, "Please, guys! Don't do this to me! Why are you doing this to me?! It's me! It's Barry!"

Their eyes all widened, and they quickly turned their heads to look at Elinor. She shook her head seriously at them.

"Iris!" Barry cried, "Iris, it's me! I'm your Barry! Please, don't do this to me! Don't send me back in the dark. I'm here! I'm home! I came running home to you, Iris!"

A small sob escaped Iris's lips.

"You may have Barry's memories," she said shakily, "But you're not Barry. _Goodbye,_ Marilyn."

"No!" Barry cried, "Iris, please! Wait! I love you, Iris. I loved you before I even knew what the word love meant. Please, don't do this to me, Iris!"

Iris looked away from Barry's face, tears streaming down her own. It wasn't him, no matter how much it seemed like it. The real Barry— _her_ Barry—was lost somewhere. He was lost, alone in the dark, and she was going to find him. They were going to bring him home.

 _"_ _Cernunnos ipse truderit virtutem plebi Suae, Aradia ipse fortitudinem plebi Suae._

 _Benedictus Deus, Gloria Patri, Benedictus Dea, Matri gloria!"_

As Elinor finished the incantation, Barry let out a long, piercing scream. They all gasped when the floor shook beneath them, the lights flickering on and off. Medical supplies in the room started falling off the shelves, and they heard an earsplitting crash echo in from the cortex.

"My computer," Cisco whined.

The floor continued to shake beneath them, and they all felt the same pulse from before, pushing them back from the bed.

"Don't break the circle," Elinor instructed calmly.

They all strengthened their hold on each other's hands, their palms sweating. Barry let out another long scream, like the sound of a dying animal. The scream seemed to pierce through their very souls as it dragged on and on until, finally, it died out in his throat.

Everything stopped when Barry went limp.

They all let out sighs of relief.

"Is it over?" Iris asked shakily, her voice cracking.

"Almost," Elinor answered seriously, "The spirit has been forced from his body."

They all dropped their hands, letting out sighs of relief.

"So, Barry…?" Joe asked nervously.

"He's not here with us," Elinor replied, " _Yet_. His body is just a vegetable right now, an empty vessel. We just need to guide Barry to it."

"How?" Wally asked.

"We cast another circle," Elinor said simply, "Except now we'll be _summoning_ a spirt, not banishing one. Believe it or not, this is a lot harder than exorcizing a spirit is. I already told you, there are no guarantees, and we'll be risking inviting something even darker into this world, should this go wrong."

"Barry will come back to us," Iris said surely, "He's strong. He'll find his way back."

Elinor nodded seriously and then motioned for them to join hands again. Once they had complied, she started a new prayer.

 _"_ _Dicam necessitatem quoniam elementa virtutis opus sit vobis detur mihi pretium sed vires meas…"_

* * *

Barry curled up on the cold ground, his eyes forever unseeing in the darkness engulfing him. He was never going to go home. He was never going to _live_ again. He would spend the rest of his life—his _existence_ —here, alone in the dark with the dead. He supposed he was one of them now. He wasn't here physically, like he was last time. His body was still in the world of the living.

Here, Barry was just another soul, lost in the dark like the others. They didn't bother him now. He was one of them. The longer he spent here, the more he belonged. He didn't feel the same way he did the first time he was here. He didn't feel the same physical needs he did before. Hunger, exhaustion, thirst. He didn't _need_ anything.

But Barry _wanted_.

He hungered for his life back. He felt _mentally_ drained and exhausted from being here. He desperately thirsted for a way out. He wanted the torment to end. He wanted the sound of silence to be broken.

He missed the sound of his heartbeat now. It had nearly driven him insane the last time he was here, but now it was the nothingless that was driving him insane. The lack of a heartbeat made his chest feel hollow inside. Barry's entire _body_ felt hollow. There was nothing here. _He_ was nothing here.

All he had were the whispers, the hollow sounds of the dead whispering in the dark around him. Barry knew what the sounds were now. They were calling out to their loved ones. Barry did it, too, sometimes. He called out to them, even though his cries went unheard. His voice was stronger than the others, though. And sometimes, just sometimes, Barry thought he could hear his family. He could hear them speaking to him. He even got glimpses of them sometimes.

He knew it had to be in his head, though. There was no _light_ here. He couldn't actually be seeing them. He was hallucinating. He was slowly losing his mind, and soon, he would be just like the others who resided here. He would be one of them, just another confused soul, wandering aimlessly in the dark for eternity.

Barry sucked in a ragged breath when he heard it again. Voices. He knew the difference now between the voices of the dead and the voices of the living. He knew when it was real and when it was just another hallucination.

 _"…_ _atque ad extra virtute tantum, sed infirmus sum…"_

Barry didn't understand the words. Granted, a lot of the time, words from the living were difficult for him to make out. It always sounded like someone was speaking from underwater. This was different, though. It sounded clearer than before, yet the words didn't sound like English to him. He couldn't distinguish any actually words from it.

"Hello?" Barry called out in the darkness.

 _"…_ _simul sic habeas…"_

Barry's eyes widened when he suddenly saw something he thought he would never see again.

Light.

He squinted his eyes, blinking multiple times as he stared at the small speck of light in the distance. And then Barry did what any carbon-based lifeform would do: he moved toward it.

"Hello?" Barry called out again, rushing toward the ball of light in the darkness.

He heard the others stir in the dark around him, roused by his call and by the light shining up ahead, breaking through the empty nothingness. They would soon be moving toward it as well.

 _"…_ _manere prope et nostra nobis fiet res ita fiat semper."_

Just like that, the words suddenly stopped, the silence quickly rushing in to take their place. Barry strained his ears as he moved toward the light, but he didn't hear anything. He kept moving, though, and the light quickly grew bigger. Barry suddenly came to a halt in his tracks, struck by a sudden thought.

He didn't even know what the light _was_. It could be anything, if was even real and not in his head. Most living things were attracted to light, but light wasn't always a good thing. Barry was in an ocean of nothingness right now, and much like in a deep abyss of the ocean, a light didn't always mean good things. He could be like a small fish right now, moving towards a pretty white light, only to be swimming into the luring jaws of an angler fish.

But what was his alternative?

What more could happen to him? He was already dead, so to speak, so what harm could come from it? Maybe it was a way out. Maybe it was heaven. Weren't you supposed to get there by traveling through a dark tunnel towards a white light? That's what they say, at least. Barry didn't know if that was what he wanted, though. It saddened him, the thought of leaving his loved ones behind. He didn't want this. He wanted to _live_.

But Barry also didn't want to stay here. He didn't want to spend an eternity in this dark place.

And he would see his parents again.

Barry's heart swelled. Maybe this didn't have to be a tragic thing. Maybe he could still have a happy ending. He could see them again, _really_ see them. He could be with them forever in the light.

Barry started to move again then, his mind made up. Really, it already had been from the start. He was going to move into the light. He would do anything to escape the darkness that had been chasing him for half his life. He was finally going to be free of it.

Barry didn't feel any fear as he ran into the light. He closed his eyes as he let it engulf him, _carry_ him. He let it carry him away from the pain, the ugliness. He let it consume him until it was all he felt. He _became_ the light.

And then Barry opened his eyes.

* * *

They all waited on pins and needles after Elinor finished reciting the incantation, the growing silent. They waited…and waited. They looked back and forth between Barry and the woman standing at the foot of his bed. Elinor didn't say anything, though. She didn't direct them or tell them to be patient. She just stared at Barry, waiting.

It was up to Barry now.

He needed to climb aboard the life raft. They all wondered morbidly if maybe it was too late. Barry had been in the Void for too long, and he was too far gone now. Maybe, they had lost him forever.

After what felt like an eternity to them, Barry suddenly sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes snapping open. They all let out a collective sigh of relief as they stared down at Barry. He looked up at them with a confused expression on his battered face.

"Barry?" Joe asked nervously, and they were all instantly reminded of the dark possibility Elinor had told them of.

It might not really be Barry.

Barry turned his head to face Joe, looking at him with tearful eyes. He had an almost… _disappointed_ look on his face.

"Joe," Barry whispered, "What's going on? Where am I?"

"You're back, Bar," Joe choked, tears filling his eyes, "We brought you back."

Barry's eyes welled up with tears at these words, and a small smile formed on his face.

"It's over then," he sighed in relief.

"How are you feeling?" Caitlin asked seriously.

"Well, I'm never playing Ouija again," Barry said, and they all laughed lightly.

They all kept giving him calculating looks, though. They couldn't help but wonder if it was really him.

"What do you all remember, Bar?" Joe asked cautiously.

Barry shook his head.

"It's all a blur," he said, "Bits and pieces are starting to come back to me. My memory kept shifting when I was there, and I couldn't think straight most of the time, but it's coming back to me now. I was in the dark for most of it."

They all exchanged curious looks.

"Most of it?" Wally asked.

"I mean," Barry said quickly, "Of course I was in the Void the entire time, but I could hear you guys sometimes. I could feel you."

"Because your body was still in the world of the living," Elinor said knowingly, "You still had a connection to this world."

Barry nodded slowly and then looked at Joe.

"Sorry about the drywall," he said softly.

They all let out small laughs. It was Barry.

"Dude," Cisco said loudly, "Were you the one creeping around the woods with us?"

Barry laughed lightly.

"I was trying to help you find your way," he explained.

Cisco shook his head.

"You could have just said, 'hey, guys, it's over here,'" he said in exasperation, "That would have been hella less creepy."

Barry laughed and shook his head.

"You know how hard it is to communicate from the Void?" he said defensively, "Every time I reached out to you guys the others would…"

His words trailed off, though. They all frowned at him.

"They would what, Bar?" Joe asked softly.

Barry shook his head.

"Let's just say they knew I wasn't supposed to be there," he said quietly, "They left me alone when I kept quiet. I would have communicated more, but whenever I did, it would weaken me, and they'd try to pull me back under. My memories would get all messed up, and for a while, I would forget why I was there."

Cisco shuddered.

"Okay, this is super creepy," he blanched, "I don't want to think about communicating from the world of the dead. Doing it from the world of the living was creepy enough."

"Agreed," Barry laughed lightly.

He looked down at his hands then, which were still restrained.

"You think you guys could…?"

"Yeah," Joe said, rushing forward, "Sorry, Bar. We had to be sure it was really you."

As soon as his hands were free, Barry reached up towards his face. He hissed in pain and clutched his shoulder instead.

"I'm so sorry, Bar," Joe choked, "I…"

"You shot me," Barry said quietly, "It's okay Joe. You were just trying to protect Iris."

Joe's eyes filled with tears as he looked down at Barry.

"You…" Iris choked, speaking for the first time, "You remember?"

Barry nodded and a sad smile formed on his face as he looked at her.

"I thought turning off the lights would paralyze her," he said quietly, "I knew she was afraid of the dark, but…"

"But she was also used to it," Iris said quietly, staring at his face.

Barry reached up and touched his cheek then. Iris's eyes filled with tears, and a small sob escaped her lips.

"It's okay, Iris," Barry whispered.

Iris shook her head and sniffed.

"I bashed your face in with a frying pan, Barry," she choked, "I broke your nose and your jaw. I ruptured one of your eye sockets. That's _not okay_."

To her surprise, Barry gave her a watery smile. He looked almost… _proud_.

"Who do you think gave you the pan?" he asked with a small smile.

Iris's eyes widened.

"You mean you…?"

"I wanted you to do it," Barry said firmly, "I made the pan fall next to you because I wanted you to protect yourself. I could never live with myself if I had hurt you."

Iris shook her head frantically.

"It wasn't you, Barry," she said quickly, "It was her. Marilyn."

Barry nodded and looked down at his lap.

"Still," he whispered.

They all stared at him. They couldn't even imagine the conflicting emotions he was feeling. It was a wonder how Barry was so calm. He had just spent three _weeks_ in the Void. They wouldn't have blamed him if he were a crying mess right now, but surprisingly, Barry was calm, composed.

"Barry," Joe said gently after a moment, "Did you know her? Marilyn?"

Barry looked taken aback by the question.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Did you know who she was?" Joe asked, "Before she died?"

Barry's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"No," he said after a moment.

They all looked at each other, thinking of the photo from 1952. In that moment, they all silently agreed not to burden Barry with it yet. They would tell him about it eventually, but he had enough he was trying to process right now.

"I'm sorry," Barry said quietly, "But I really need to sleep now. I don't think I've ever been more exhausted in my life."

They all nodded understandingly.

"She was making you sick," Caitlin told him softly, "Her dead soul was killing your body, and your organs were just starting to shut down. I don't think your body would have lasted much longer. A week, maybe."

"Yeah," Barry sighed, "I believe it. I feel like _shit_. My head feels like it's been split in two."

"Well, that may be more from the head trauma," Caitlin said gently, "You have more than a little concussion from it."

To their surprise, Barry smiled.

"Iris sure does know her way around a frying pan," he joked.

Iris, however, looked down at the floor in guilt.

"Please," Barry said seriously to her then, "Please, don't feel bad about it."

He looked seriously back and forth between both her and Joe.

"Things could have turned out a lot worse if you hadn't done what needed to be done," he said surely, "You saved me. _All_ of you. Thank you."

Joe wiped the tears from his face and let out a shaky sigh before putting his hand on Barry's good shoulder.

"You should get some sleep, Bar," he said softly.

They would all eventually come to terms with everything that had happened, but it would definitely take time.

* * *

It took Barry three days at STAR Labs for him start healing and recovering from his wounds and the supernatural illness that had been plaguing his body for weeks. Once his organs were fully functional again, his wounds were able to heal. By the time he went home, he was already on the mend, but his arm was still in a sling from the gunshot to his shoulder, and his face wasn't fully healed yet. The swelling had gone down, but his nose was still healing from being broken, and he still had dark shadows under his eyes from the bleeding in his sinuses.

Iris could still barely look at him. Barry knew it was more than just his face that was troubling her, though. She would probably take a long time to get over that night. He had _attacked_ her, and while she knew it wasn't really him, he understood why she was still a little uncomfortable around him. They all knew it was only temporary, though. The memories were still fresh for all of them, and it would take some time for them to move past it completely.

But they would do it, as a family.

They were all gradually starting to move on and put the whole thing behind them. Barry seemed to be struggling with it the most, though, and understandably so. He had been through a terrible ordeal, and they knew he would probably never fully forget all that had happened to him. To say they were worried about him would be an understatement. Barry was being quiet—not so much _withdrawn_ , but quiet.

"Hey," Iris said softly as she made her way out onto the porch.

Barry turned back and looked at her from where he was sitting on the steps.

"Hey," he whispered.

"Can I sit?" she asked nervously.

Barry nodded, and she moved to sit on the other side of the steps from him, much like she had countless times before. As soon as she was sitting, Iris saw what was in Barry's hands. He was slowly turning the broken pieces of a record between his fingers. She knew immediately what it was.

"I'm so sorry," Iris said softly, "Marilyn destroyed it."

"I know," Barry whispered, "She was trying to silence me."

Iris nodded slowly.

"Is that why she covered the mirrors?" she asked quietly.

Barry nodded silently, still looking down at the pieces in his hands.

"Cisco told me about my dad," he said after a moment, "And the box."

Iris stared at him, not knowing what to say.

"I…" she said in a strained voice, "I still don't know why he gave it to us. It didn't really help us in the long run."

She looked questioningly at Barry, but he didn't say anything to enlighten her. Instead, he asked a question.

"What happened to the box?" he whispered.

Iris gave him a sympathetic look.

"She burned it," she answered sadly.

Barry just nodded, his face hard. Iris could see the anguish behind his eyes, though.

"Probably for the best," he whispered.

Iris furrowed her eyebrows at him.

"I need to finally move on," he said in a strained voice, "Don't I?"

Iris opened and closed her mouth a couple times, not sure what to say to him.

"I think that's all you _can_ do," she said softly.

Barry nodded and brushed a few stray tears from his face.

"I thought it was heaven," he whispered then.

Iris stared at him, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"The Void?" she asked curiously.

Barry shook his head quickly.

"No," he choked, "The light. The…'life raft' you sent me. When I saw the light, I thought it was heaven."

Iris gave him a watery smile.

"And then it took you home," she said, smiling warmly at him.

Barry didn't smile, though.

"Yeah," he whispered, "It did."

The smile slid from Iris's face as she watched him, staring down at his knees.

"Barry," she said shakily, "When you woke up…you had this look on your face. You looked…"

Barry shook his head quickly.

"I'm not disappointed," he assured her, already knowing what she was going to say, "I'm relieved to be home."

"But a _part_ of you is disappointed," she accused tearfully, her voice cracking, "Isn't it?"

Barry looked up at her with watery eyes.

"I thought I would get to see them again," he whispered.

"Oh, Barry," Iris choked, shaking her head.

"I know," he said, "I should be grateful they weren't there, in the Void. I should be grateful to have my life back, to be home and free of all this now, but…I can't help but resent the fact that after _all_ of that, I never got to have a moment with them."

"It isn't fair," Iris said tearfully, "I can't imagine how frustrated you must be feeling, Barry, but…"

"This whole thing started because I was thinking of them," Barry said quietly, "My mother. Her death anniversary. I was thinking about them that day, when I was trying to get to earth 12. That's why I ended up in the Void in the first place."

Iris sniffed and wiped her eyes.

"I didn't know that," she said softly.

Barry shook his head as his face suddenly crumpled. He let out a strangled sob and buried his face in his hands.

"Barry," Iris choked.

"I think about them all the t-time, Iris," Barry sobbed into his hands, "I miss them so much sometimes, I think this pain is never going to stop."

"I know," Iris whispered, putting a hand on his shoulder, "I know, Barry, but it _will_. We're going to help you move on from this."

Barry just shook his head.

"I don't think I'll ever move on," he choked.

"Barry," Iris cried, tears leaking from her eyes to see him this way, "Barry, look at me."

Barry sucked in a few ragged breaths before finally looking up at her with bloodshot eyes. Iris put her hands on his shoulders and looked him straight in the eye, something she hadn't been able to do for this last week. She didn't see what she had been fearing she'd see, though. She didn't the darkness in them like before. She saw _Barry_. She saw a good soul. It was a deeply wounded soul, but it was a good one. She saw light.

"Wherever you need to go," she said seriously to him, "Whatever you need to do, _do it._ We'll support you and help you do whatever you need to do to move on, Barry. You're not alone."

Barry nodded and gave her a watery smile.

"Thank you," he whispered, "Thank you, Iris, but I think I just need to be alone right now."

Iris nodded tearfully in understanding. She gave his shoulders a small squeeze before standing up. Iris wiped her eyes as she crossed the porch, pausing and turning to look at him when she reached the door.

"I love you, Barry," she whispered.

Barry gave her a sad smile.

"I love you, too," he said softly.

Iris smiled sadly at him before opening the front the door and stepping back inside.

Barry stared at the closed door for a prolonged moment before slowly standing up.

"That's why I'm so sorry," he whispered, "But I have to do this."

Barry took off down the street then. It was the first time he had ran since getting out of the Void, and it seemed appropriate, considering what he was running towards. He had been cheated enough. He had done everything right, had made the selfless decision to _not_ go back and save his parents, and then all of this had happened. And after all the _pain_ he had to go through, he still never got to see them. Barry knew it was selfish, but he didn't care. He deserved his family back. After everything he had done to help people, after everything he had been through, Barry deserved to make one selfish decision. He deserved his family back.

Barry's heartrate picked up when he was engulfed in light. He focused on his parents, not just on seeing them again and wanting to talk to them. Barry focused on that _night_ , fifteen years ago. He could see the other end of the wormhole opening up on the other side, and Barry felt his heart stutter in anticipation. He was going to save his mother.

And then something grabbed him.

Barry gasped when a hand gripped his shoulder and gave a sharp tug. The blinding light that was engulfing him suddenly disappeared as he was pulled out of the time stream. For a heart-stopping moment Barry feared the others had found him again. He feared he had been pulled back into the dark. The blinding light, however, wasn't replaced by darkness. Instead, it was replaced by normal daylight.

He hit the pavement with a loud thud. Barry sat there in shock for a moment before spinning around, sitting on the ground with his back leaning up against a parked car. He looked up in shock at the familiar figure standing in front of him, looking down at him.

"Dad," he breathed, his eyes quickly filling with tears.

And then the man stepped forward, blocked the sunlight from blinding Barry's eyes, and Barry was able to see the man was wearing a familiar version of the Flash costume.

"No, Barry," Jay said sadly.

"Jay," Barry whispered.

Jay nodded solemnly and then tossed a set of clothes on the ground in front of him.

"Put those on," he instructed.

Barry gaped at him for a moment before standing up and flashing into the clothes. Jay stood there with a serious expression on his face.

"Come with me," he said after a moment.

Without another word, Jay started walking down the sidewalk, Barry following in confusion. Jay quickly led the two of them to a small diner just down the street.

"Where are we?" Barry asked as they walked into the diner.

"D&D's Diner in Central City," Jay answered.

Barry looked around the diner, taking in the retro atmosphere. The waitresses were wearing poodle skirts and rolling around on skates as they served diners, and the music that was playing was definitely not from 2016.

"No, I mean what _year_?" Barry asked seriously.

"1952," Jay answered simply.

He then spun on Barry.

"I'm going to run to the bathroom," he said seriously, "Don't go running off on me while I'm gone."

Barry nodded stiffly. Jay stared seriously at him for a moment, making sure he wasn't about to take off on him, before nodding in satisfaction and heading towards the men's room. Barry sighed and sat down at the counter, waiting for Jay to return to lecture him. That had to be what this was about. Jay didn't pull him out of the speed force for just a friendly chat.

"Is this seat taken?"

Barry turned in his chair to see a woman standing behind him. She was smiling widely at him, revealing a set of perfect, white teeth behind bright red lips. Her dark hair was done up in a retro pin-curl style that matched the dark dress she was wearing, speckled with white polka dots. She was beautiful. Barry wasn't exactly taken by her, seeing as he was in love with Iris, but he couldn't help but notice her beauty.

"I, uh," Barry stammered, staring at her.

There was something extremely familiar about her. It made him uneasy for some reason he couldn't quite explain. He couldn't possibly know her, but it almost felt like he did. He felt like he had known her for years.

"I'm actually waiting for a friend," he said quietly, "He'll be right back."

"Are you new to town?" the woman asked, taking a seat anyways, "I've never seen you in here before."

"Y-yeah," Barry stuttered, "I'm just passing through."

"What's your name?" she asked curiously.

"Barry," he said quietly, his throat dry as he stared at her.

"Short for Bartholomew, I'm guessing," she giggled, "That's my cousin's name."

Barry laughed lightly at that, realizing he was in a time period where his name was actually _popular_ for once. Before he could ask her for her name in return, one of the waitresses approached the counter.

"Can I get you anything here, dears?" she asked them kindly, "Coffee? A milkshake?"

"I'll just have a water," Barry said quickly.

He felt rude not ordering anything, but he couldn't exactly pay for anything with bills from 2016. It would raise too many questions. He just wanted to get this conversation with Jay over with, so he could get out of here. He had had an uneasy feeling from the moment he walked into this diner.

"I'm just dropping something off," the woman next to him answered, smiling brightly as she set a basket on the counter.

Barry glanced at the basket and saw it was filled with scones, cookies, and other baked goods.

"Sweetheart, you shouldn't have!" the waitress gushed, "You're too good to us, dropping off these sweets all the time."

"It's nothing," the woman said, waving a hand dismissively, "You know how I love to bake."

She stood up then.

"Well, I should get going," she sighed, "The grocer closes at four today, and I needed to get a few things."

"You're going to clean that place out of all their flour," the waitress joked, shaking her head as she walked away to tend to other costumers.

The woman laughed as she slung her purse over her shoulder and turned towards Barry again.

"I'll be seeing you, Barry," she said warmly to him before walking away.

Barry stared after her, a churning feeling in his gut as he watched her exit the diner. Something about her had him on edge, and as she disappeared out the door, the uneasy feeling grew. And then it clicked.

He knew where he had seen her before.

Barry stood up from his seat in alarm, his eyes going wide. He stood there in shock for a moment before moving quickly towards the door. He only made it a few paces before his steps suddenly faltered at a loud sound.

The sound of a gunshot.


End file.
